Coffee, Cupcakes & Pizza
by Punkpoet69
Summary: A blind date and a case of mistaken identity just might lead to love...or it might lead to lies, guilt, late night cheesecake and an uncomfortable weekend with a stranger's parents. Troy and Gabriella have to convince each other that what's going on between them is real before their little lie turns into one big, sweet disaster.
1. Chapter 1

"Son, I have amazing news."

"You've realized this is no longer your office," Troy grunted as he dropped his pencil in time to watch his father toss his coat over a nearby chair.

Three years ago his father retired and since then it was as if he hadn't retired at all. He still came in whenever he wanted. Still gave out orders to the staff and most annoyingly still came and went from his old office whenever he wanted.

"I'm getting married," Jack declared as he made his way to the cabinet where his father stored his whiskey.

Troy stared at him, open-mouthed. _Not again_. Arms crossed, he tapped his foot impatiently on the carpet floor under his desk. "Again."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." His father set out two glasses and began to pour. "It's a way of life. Some people have their hobbies, some have their work and I have romance."

Troy was about to vomit. He wasn't sure if it was because of his lingering hangover or because of the latest news. Probably a combination of everything. "You've had it five times Dad."

His father flinched at his sour tone. "I'll let that slide due to the current events surrounding your last marriage."

God damn it.

"Although, I am happy to see _that_ one go," Jack added with a chuckle. "Tomorrow is the first-year anniversary of your divorce. Mood swings are expected."

Troy bit the inside of his cheek as he looked at the calendar on his desk.

Sharpay always kept a wall calendar. God only knows why. He kept telling her to use the stupid app on her phone, and she wouldn't need a wall calendar with a Sharpie tied up next to it because this was the _fucking future_ and she was being insane. He hated the grimy string that held the thing in place, just like he hated the little valance curtain that hung above the kitchen window.

But it was still there.

Sharpay's mother was the kind of person who kept fluffy seat covers on toilets. That should have been his first clue. Nothing made of fabric belonged in the bathroom or the kitchen— the two dirtiest rooms in the house. Unless it was a floor mat or an oven mitt, he wanted it out of his sight.

Sharpay was gone.

Occasionally, it hit him fresh. Like it had just happened. There was no escaping these days, although they came less and less frequently with time. He just had to get through them.

He didn't even care about her anymore. The Sharpay he loved as a concept was long gone, and he knew that. He was finished mourning her. It led nowhere and accomplished nothing. Why bother? Why waste his energy? It was like loving a ghost. Except more pointless, because his concept of Sharpay couldn't even make pottery with him while the Righteous Brothers played in the background. She was beyond ethereal. She was completely nonexistent, in every possible iteration of every universe.

Troy sat up straighter, "So what's this one's name?"

Jack grinned. "Marissa."

Out of self-preservation Troy took his eyes off the calendar and took the offered drink his father handed him. Marissa was the mother of his seven-year-old stepbrother Christian. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you say she was crazy the first time around?"

"We've worked out our differences. Besides, it would be good for Christian to see his parents together and happily married."

"Why? I never did."

Jack huffed, "That's different your mother was crazy."

"Funny, she says the same about you." Troy shifted in his chair and adjusted his collar.

"You know I slept in this office after…let's see, your mother… Renee, the ballet dancer- "

"My nanny."

Jack grinned, "She was the nanny?"

"Yeah."

Jack let out a laugh as he took a seat in one of the leather chairs. "I forgot that. How ironic. Then there was the art major."

Troy shifted his glass around before lifting it to his lips. "Also, my nanny."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"That's amazingly ironic. And then there was Bethany."

"Dad, not that I don't appreciate the memory lane of exes, but is there a point approaching?"

"Right," Jack lifted his glass and took a long drink. When he was done he smiled and set the glass on the side table nearby. "I want you to be my best man."

Troy took a deep breath as he leaned back in his chair and took in his father's wistful smile. "Sure, why not."

"Hot diggity dog!" Jack leaned back in his chair with a loud clap. "This is going to be terrific."

"Right." Troy placed the half-empty glass on his desk.

His eyes drifted back to the calendar.

"You know you should get back out there. So what your first marriage was a wreck? That why we call them starter wives. In fact, Marissa has a younger sister you should meet."

Troy winced. "No."

"You just have to meet someone new, that's all. That's the easy part."

"Oh right, a snap to find the one single person in this world who fills your heart with joy."

It wasn't that easy to meet anyone. There were women who treated him like he was rich, and women who didn't. Not that it mattered. He wasn't an idiot, he understood it was inescapable. People would always consider his money when evaluating his personality. If it was down to a decision between him and another man, and he was the millionaire, the other man certainly wasn't going to win. To some extent, he'd never really known what any woman thought of him.

So, he married a woman he hardly knew. When she cheated on him with her friend from work, part of him was shocked, but the other part felt the crushing inevitability of it. Had been feeling it for years. They met when they were teenagers.

There had been no chance for them.

There would have been if she'd tried harder.

But he was insufferable as well. He knew that. As much as he knew he wasn't supposed to blame himself, he couldn't really do anything else. Sharpay wasn't a degenerate when she married him. He turned her into someone lonely and desperate. That was his gift.

He needed coffee. He needed a change of scenery. He needed to get these blueprints done before the end of the day. No way he could work here with commotion going on.

"Sorry for cutting your visit short, but I have a meeting with a supplier in town. Call me later and we'll go over the details."

"Oh no problem at all, I was going to hang around and catch up with some of my buddies." Jack let out a laugh. "I'm going to need Groomsmen after all."

"Great."

Loading up his laptop and all the binders of research he needed to put the blueprints together, he retrieved his wallet and headed out where his driver was already waiting.

He just needed to get out of here. Go somewhere no one knew who he was. Get a cup coffee and work.

Working kept the memories away. Working helped him forget. He just needed to work.

* * *

Gabriella parked her faithful Toyota beside the town green and resisted the urge to wipe her damp palms on the legs of her capris. _Stupid to be nervous,_ she thought. It was just coffee. And a blind date with a guy she'd been matched up with on Perfect Chemistry. A guy with no profile picture.

He said he was camera shy—which could mean…anything.

Actually shy. Physically deformed. Homely. Axe murderer. Taylor thought she shouldn't even talk to a guy not will to put his picture up, but he seemed nice in their admittedly non-personal conversations. Respectful, which was something in astoundingly short supply in online dating. The things some guys thought they could get away with—insults, asking directly for booty calls, texting naked pictures of themselves—it had almost made her give up on online dating entirely.

But Tony had done none of those things. He had been friendly and made no assumptions. They'd talked about movies and TV and SEC football, steering clear of pretty much all personal and identifying owing to that whole could-be-an-ax-murderer thing. She could get over the fact that he was a lifelong Bulldog fan. Probably. He was into architecture. Was working at entry level and gaining more experience. He hoped to be designing skyscrapers one day.

At least he had vision.

Post-college dating was hard enough. So, when he said he was coming to town for the afternoon and suggested they meet for coffee, she said yes. Public place. Daytime. She would get a better feel for him in person than from online anyway.

It wasn't a big deal.

So she changed her outfit. Twice. And gnawed off her lipstick and had to reapply. Gabriella just knew if she stayed home and thought about it anymore, she would probably end up canceling on him. Or worse, standing him up because he had already left Starkville and would not get her message. So, she arrived early and decided to walk to The Daily Grind so there would be time to get her nerves under control.

Sunlight filtered through the enormous oak trees that peppered the green grass. Summer had baked the ground in places, and the green hadn't quite recovered. In another month or two, the leaves would turn brown and fall—Mississippi rarely saw much in the way of autumn color—but for now, the green was as she liked it best. Bright and breezy.

Gabriella strode purposefully to the coffee shop. The date might be a disaster, but at least if the whole thing tanked, she would have an entertaining story to tell at the bakery tomorrow.

"Well hey there Sugarplum!"

The tension in Gabriella's shoulders immediately bled out at Kelsi's cheery greeting. Kelsi had been running The Daily Grind with her mom since she got back from college. Since then The Daily Grind had been doing fantastic. Kelsi had taken all the businesses courses she could so that she could come back home and really give the place the love it deserved.

"You're dressed up awful cute for an afternoon read-a-thon," she remarked, already turning to put together her current favorite Black Irish mocha.

"What?" Gabriella glanced down at her novel sticking out of her purse. "Oh…no. Actually, I'm here to meet someone." She pulled out the book and the Gerbera daisy, clutching both to her chest.

Kelsi arched both perfectly manicured brows. "Oh!" She drew the exclamation out to three syllables. "You're pulling a _You've Got Mail._ That's just adorable. Anyone, I know?"

"Nobody I know. We got matched up on Perfect Chemistry. He's an architect."

Kelsi brightened. "He's already here! Upstairs." She dropped her voice and leaned across the counter, offering her Black Irish. "A real hottie, too."

"Thank goodness," Gabriella sighed. "He didn't have a picture on his profile. Taylor was positive he had a third ear or a weird mole or something. Don't even get me started on what my mother thinks."

"No strange growths or creep vibes. Scout's honor," Kelsi swore. "He's been working on a report of some kind for a while now. Could probably do with a refill of his coffee. You want to take one up?"

"Sure." It would be a nice icebreaker.

Kelsi made it up and handed over the second cup. "Good luck, cupcake. If he turns out to be a stinker, just text me an SOS and I'll create a diversion to get you loose."

"You're an angel."

"Just remember that when I come in your chocolate cheesecake!"

Gabriella smiled and began walking up to the loft. Where there were extra tables and couches set up for a more private vibe.

He was the only person there. Hunched over a laptop, with a stack of binders and a big blueprint on the table. She could make out the strong edge of his jaw and the serious set to his mouth. Maybe he had come early planning to get some work out of the way before their date? Gabriella considered turning around and going back downstairs until the appointed time, just to give him a chance to finish what he was working on. Then he looked up and she almost bobbled the coffee.

Kelsi hadn't exaggerated. This guy was a certifiable hottie with all that dark brown hair mussed by a frustrated or nervous hand and those clear blue eyes that seemed to pierce her from across the room. His brows winged up in question.

Aware she was staring, Gabriella mustered a smile and crossed over, setting the cup of coffee in the few inches of free space beside the empty cup already there. "Kelsi said you could do with a refill." She slid into the booth across from him and laid her book and flower next to her own coffee. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

* * *

As the brunette slid into the seat across the table. Troy realized three things. One, she wasn't a waitress getting her flirt on. Two, it was really hard to be annoyed at being interrupted by a beautiful girl. Three, she completely thought he was somebody else.

"I'm so glad I'm not the only one who believes in showing up early." Freed of coffees, her hands darted briefly, like hummingbirds unsure where to land, before settling in her lap.

Troy recognized nerves when he saw them. He opened his mouth to tell her she had made a mistake, then his eyes landed on the book she'd set between them. The latest in The City of Soul Chronicles.

"You're a Hermon Smith fan?" he asked.

Her eyes crinkled when she smiled, giving her a faintly feline look as she said, "Yes, have you read this one?"

Troy quickly held up a hand. "No. Don't say a word. I'm three books behind in the series and have been rapidly avoiding spoilers. I didn't discover them until recently, unfortunately, work hasn't left a lot of free time for reading."

"No, I imagine not. I confess I've been a reading machine since I graduated two years ago, I haven't been able to get enough of all things commercial fiction. I'm sure my English professor would have a heart attack that I'm reading something other than Faulkner."

"And yet, you were an English major?" he asked.

"Honestly, it seemed like a good idea at the time. The only things I really love are baking and reading. They don't tell you when you sign up to major in English that what they do isn't reading. It's analyzing texts—often by a bunch of dead white guys that haven't been relevant for at least a century— to within an inch of their lives." She shuddered theatrically and sipped her coffee. "I'm pretty sure they make up at least half of all the hidden meanings. I really don't give a damn what the author supposedly meant by the curtains being blue. Sometimes, the curtains are just blue."

Troy grinned. "Or the light at the end of the pier in Gatsby was just a green light."

"Yes!" She lifted her coffee in a gesture of agreement so enthusiastically, he expected it to slosh.

"Why didn't you switch majors?"

"Eh, by the time I was over it I was already done with most of the courses. Instead of switching I just added a minor in business. The rest of the puzzle just seemed to sort itself out."

"What was the rest of the puzzle?"

She smiled as she leaned back in the booth, she'd relaxed since she first sat down. "Opening the bakery, perfecting my recipes and just doing something I love."

"You're a baker."

She leaned forward placing her elbows on the table. "Between you and me, I make the best damn cupcakes in Mississippi."

Troy smiled. "Your modesty is refreshing."

"The one thing I do miss about college was having time for a daily nap."

"Naps are one of the greatest benefits of college," Troy agreed. "I'm pretty sure half the violence in the world would disappear if everybody had a daily nap."

"I guess you don't have much time for that anymore with your new job. You know because of you I now have a book all about Mississippi architecture on my coffee table."

"No not so much room for napping when you're working hard." So whoever she was supposed to meet was into the architecture business. He really ought to say something. But she looked so sweet as she absently played with the stem of the daisy, her attention focused on him. He could at least keep her company while she waited for her real date to show up. "Do you only bake cupcakes?"

She shrugged. "I bake all sorts of things. I currently working on my first wedding cake." She was quiet for a moment. "It's for my ex."

"How on earth did that happen?"

She tipped her head in consideration and the sunlight from the window hit her hair, bringing out all the rich, warm undertones and making Troy itch to touch it to see it if it really was as silky as it looked. "His mother and my mother are friends. Like…lifelong friends. I swear they had everything about our lives mapped out. They just missed the part where George had a thing for blonds."

"Blonds are overrated."

Her smile widened, "Tell me about it."

"My ex-wife was a blond," Troy offered. "She ended up having a thing for her _friend from work_."

She giggled. "Well aren't we a pair of real winners."

Troy laughed out loud, unable to stop smiling himself. There was no question about it. Her expression was one of comfort and satisfaction with her place in this tiny world. It was infectious.

"Well, now there's all this pressure to make the damn thing flawlessly. And to be honest I need the business. Right about now an awesome wedding cake would really put me on the map."

"Business isn't booming as much as you like?"

She shook her head. "Business is fine. It's my building that's falling apart." She sipped her coffee. "I have a hole in my kitchen wall, light fixtures that don't work and currently my apartment doesn't have running water."

Troy raised a brow. "Yet you're open for business?"

"I meet the codes and standards," she responded. "Enough about my shortcoming, what about you?"

Troy sat up a little straighter. "What about me?"

She looked down at the blueprints and binders. "Last I heard you were a gopher for your boss, getting coffee and making copies. Suddenly you're looking at blueprints and building codes?"

Ah ha, so his mysterious competition—and when had he started thinking of this girl's real date as competition? — was just starting out. "The construction of a building is just as, if not more important, than the design of one."

"Smooth. So why Mississippi?"

"Why not Mississippi? My father owned a business a here, he did well." Troy shrugged his shoulders. "My mother loved small towns. She said they had more culture and class than any big city."

"You're mother sounds like a genius."

"So, you don't think about leaving?"

She shrugged. "Not really. I always imagined I'd live here all my life. I never pictured anything else. You?"

"I don't know. Depends on how things unfold, I guess. I do travel a lot. Plus, there are certain variables one would have to consider. Like relationships or family. I imagine I'd stay anywhere for the right someone worth staying for."

She smiled into her coffee and glanced back up at him through sooty lashes. "I guess I'm just waiting for someone as well."

* * *

What on _earth_ possessed her to say that?

Gabriella looked down into her mug again, just as Tony smiled. Oh, yeah. That was why. He had a great smile—and an inviting curve of lips that made you feel like you were sharing some kind of juicy secret.

He made such a better impression in person than he did online.

"Why didn't you have a picture up on your Perfect Chemistry profile?" she couldn't resist asking.

The oddest expression crossed his features. "It wouldn't have been me."

 _Huh._ He hadn't struck her as much of a philosopher in their previous conversations. "Well, I guess we do tend to place too much importance on physical appearance."

"Why are you on those sites? You can't tell me you have trouble finding dates."

"This place isn't quite the dating scene, in case you haven't noticed. Of the guys here in my relative age bracket, I already dated half of them in high school. The other half are either married, dated friends of mine long enough that it would be weird, or they just don't ring my bell."

Tony nodded, "Interesting, so online dating rings your…bell?"

"It casts a slightly wider net. And it's nice to theoretically have a system to match you up with some kind of criteria that suggest compatibility."

"You think an algorithm or whatever can actually do that?"

"Don't you?" she asked. He _was_ on the same dating site, after all.

"I don't think it's a substitute for real, in-person conversation. It might be able to match you with somebody based on—I don't know—similar values or movie tastes or political views. And, sure, maybe you end up hitting it off. But I don't think there's any true substitute for a chance meeting where you feel that indefinable spark with a stranger—and you know they won't stay a stranger for long."

The moment stretched between them, pulling taut with awareness and unspoken things. Gabriella felt her skin prickle and thought if she reached over to touch his hand right now, she'd feel a snap of electricity.

The thumps of footsteps on the stairs broke the spell. Gabriella glanced over to see an unfamiliar guy step into the room. Tall and exceptionally thin, he had a mug in one hand what appeared to be a sketchpad in the other. She gave him a polite smile as he paused to survey the room, then moved to take a seat in a booth by the other window.

"Well, there's definitely something to be said for serendipity," Gabriella admitted. "Whether it's facilitated by outside sources or not."

Tony lifted his mug in a toast. "To serendipity."

Gabriella clinked her mug to his.

The conversation shifted back to books. They both had diverse tastes, she liked urban fantasy and romance, he liked sci-fi and more traditional fantasy, but there was sufficient crossover that they had plenty to discuss.

The new guy checked his watch and fidgeted, tapping a pencil lightly against his sketchpad. The sound wasn't quite loud enough to truly be annoying. He looked nervous. _Waiting for someone_ , she guessed. Knowing very well how that felt, Gabriella silently wished him as much luck on his date as she was having on hers.

"Hey," said Tony, "I saw an ice cream parlor a bit down the street. How do you feel about banana splits?"

"I think they're one of the singular joys in life," Gabriella said. "Will there be extra chocolate?"

"Naturally."

"Then why don't we relocate," he said.

"I support this plan," she said. The ice cream was always a good idea.

Tony shut the laptop he'd shoved aside some time ago during their conversation into his bag and began gathering his things. As he started to stuff his things away a letterhead caught her attention on his memo pad. A compulsive reader, she angled her head to get a better view. _Bolton Constructions_.

"Bolton Constructions? I thought you were working for Ageless Structures."

Tony stopped stuffing his bag and gave her a sheepish look. "Ah, about that."

"Excuse me?" the newcomer stood by their table. "But are you Gabriella?"

Gabriella had a very bad feeling as she cautiously answered, "Yes."

"I'm Tony," he said, with a look that clearly said party foul to her companion. "Your actual date."

* * *

Gabriella's face cycled through several different emotions—distress, embarrassment, maybe even disappointment—before she settled and pinned him with a horrified glare. "You're not Tony?"

Troy shrugged. "Guilty."

"Why didn't you say anything?" she demanded.

"You didn't ask," he said. Wrong answer.

She shot to her feet, hands fumbling for her book and coffee as she looked to her real date. "I'm so sorry for the confusion. I got here early and we simply don't get that many unfamiliar faces in town. Kelsi said—well it doesn't matter. We made assumptions. I thought he was you."

"No harm, no foul," Tony said, though the glance he shot back at Troy suggested otherwise. "Shall we?" He gestured towards where he'd been sitting.

"Thanks for the coffee and conversation," Troy said as they walked to the other side of the room. His eyes shifted to the daisy she left behind.

Well hell, he'd certainly blown that.

As soon as the other guy had come up the stairs, Troy had suspected it was probably her real date. He had the crazy idea that if he could just get her out of there…

Then what? She wouldn't be mad at him when he told her the truth? That she felt that spark?

Cursing himself as an idiot, he finished packing up his things. No use staying here. He had work to do. He could have been a complete jerk and sent her packing when she sat down, but no, he'd been polite. Conversational.

And interested, damn it.

Troy's gaze strayed back to Gabriella. He couldn't hear their quiet conversation over the lounge music that played over the speakers, but she certainly wasn't as animated with Tony as she had been when she was talking to him. She was nervous again. Beneath the table, her hands twisted in her lap. Her smile seemed a little strained around the edges.

Was that his fault? Had he made her feel even more awkward over the blind date than she already did? Troy felt like a prick of guilt at that. He hadn't intended to make things more difficult for her.

Great, now he was spying on her blind date. What was he doing? What was done, was done and couldn't be taken back. He had work to do.

Determined to finish what he'd come here for, Troy looked at the construction plans in front of him. He took some notes of material and expenses.

He lasted all of ten minutes. The damn flower sat there mocking him. It's bright color taunting him, indirectly dragging his attention back to her.

She wasn't even laughing. What kind of date couldn't at least make her chuckle?

He caught her glancing his way, he couldn't help but smile. One corner of her mouth twitched before she quickly shifted her attention back to Tony. The guy seemed to be recounting some incredibly detailed…something…with visual aids. He was drawing something out on a napkin.

Troy rolled his eyes and looked back at the flower sitting there left behind by its owner. He let out a sigh and decided to pack up. This was getting him nowhere.

* * *

"-and then he walks up and says _he's_ my date. I've been sitting there for forty-five minutes talking to this guy and he never said a _word_ to correct my assumption. It was _mortifying_." Gabriella reached for her apron and begun tying it around her waist.

The aroma of fresh-baked cinnamon raisin bread and vanilla scented sugar glaze smacked her in the face. It was their top-selling item, and already there was a line of customers were waiting for to get their share.

Taylor let out a laugh as she slid a batch of freshly baked doughnuts into the counter display, before heading back to the register. "What did your actual date say?"

Gabriella paused in the doorway between the storefront and kitchen. "He was really cool about the whole thing. Really polite. Which is more than I can say for Mr. Fake Date. He kept staring at me as if I couldn't be any more nervous about what an idiot I was." Gabriella let out a grunt as she pushed through the door and entered the kitchen area.

Taylor continued filling the last few orders while Gabriella brought out the rest of the trays restocking the nearly-empty glass display counter with parchment-lined metal trays of apple fritters, custard filled doughnuts and maple glazed cinnamon twists.

"There are worse things than a man who can't keep his eyes off you," Taylor argued once the last customer exited the bakery.

"Not when you're on a date with _somebody_ else," Gabriella insisted. "I'm sure Tony thought I was the rudest date ever. I was so distracted especially when Mr. Fake Date had the nerve to pack up and leave in some kind of temper tantrum. I mean, where does he get off?"

"Did the actual date get better after he left?"

Gabriella grimaced. "No, we had nothing in common. He didn't even try to kiss me. I doubt I'll ever hear from him again." Gabriella grabbed another tray from the countertop. "I spent the rest of my evening with Ben." Ben was her neighbor's cat who visited on occasion.

"Why don't you just get a cat of your own?"

"I can't. It just wouldn't work out." Gabriella looked down at the tray of goods in her hands.

Taylor rolled her eyes. "So, it sounds like you got along really well with Mr. Fake Date."

"I don't even know who he is-" A noise sounded from the front room. Taylor stepped over to the swinging door and peeked out the window.

"Shit. Incoming."

Gabriella put the tray of goods down. "Great. Just what I need right now. Don't worry, I'll go head her off at the pass."

"I'll just stay back here out of the way."

"Yeah, right. Coward," Gabriella called out as she shoved open the door and stepped into the front room.

A slender woman with flawless ivory complexion, mauve-painted lips, and wavy brown locks-at least a shade lighter than Gabriella's-rounded the display counter.

"Hi, Mom. What's happening?"

Her mother swept a glance over her. "Definitely not that outfit. And you didn't even fix your hair today. How are you going to attract a good man looking like that?"

 _Here we go._ Gabriella rolled her eyes. "Daddy says I'm perfect just the way I am."

"Your father's a liar. Besides, mothers are always right." She stood in front of the swinging door just as Gabriella turned towards her and propped a hip against the counter.

"Don't slouch, honey. Good posture makes you look thinner."

Gabriella sighed but didn't say anything.

Just then, Taylor's head appeared in the window of the swinging door behind Gabriella's mother. She put a gun-shaped finger to her own head and pulled the trigger, pretending to blow her brains out.

Gabriella cleared her throat to keep from laughing. "So why did you stop by Mom?"

The bell over the door chimed and Gabriella looked over just in time to see a delivery man enter the bakery with daisies. A lot of daisies.

"I wanted to check on the cake for the wedding tomorrow. I ran into Mrs. Andrews at the supermarket and…frankly, she seemed worried. I think she's afraid you might sabotage George's reception by doing something to ruin the cake."

"Well, then maybe Mrs. Andrews should've thought about that before ordering her son's cake from his ex-girlfriend's bakery."

"Delivery for Gabriella?" The man said placing the flowers on the countertop.

"Flowers?" Her mother's brows flew up in surprise. "Who sent the flowers?"

Gabriella grabbed the clipboard from the delivery man and signed on the line. "I'm not sure."

"You're not sure?" Her mother let out a huff as she plucked the card from the holder and eased it out from its envelope. "Honestly Gabriella, sometimes you're so difficult."

Ignoring her mother, she smiled back at the delivery man. "Thank you for the flowers," Gabriella said as she handed the clipboard back to him and waving as he left.

"Let me make it up to you. Tosca. Tonight at 7 pm." Her mother flipped the card over. "No name. You must know who they're from?"

Gabriella frowned.

"Oh my god," Taylor flew through the swinging door. "There from _him_ aren't they!"

Gabriella's mouth dropped open. She never told Tony where she worked and he hadn't seen the flower she had brought. She forgot it at Mr. Fake Date's table. A flutter of excitement trembled in her chest.

"Who's him?"

"No one." Gabriella took the card from her mother. "No one at all."

"Fine, what do I know, I'm only your mother."

Gabriella watched as her mother began walking around the counter towards the door.

"It was nice seeing you mother," Gabriella offered.

Her mother paused momentarily before pushing to door open slightly. "Just, please don't do anything to embarrass me. I have to sit on the City Council with that dreadful woman, and it would make for some very awkward town hall meetings."

And just as she appeared, she was gone. Out onto the street.

"He's asking you out," Taylor said. "Properly. With Style, I might add. Flowers that must have cost a pretty penny to deliver. A dinner invite to the nicest restaurant in town. Tell me you're going?"

"I don't know."

"Oh, come on," Taylor said. "This is, like, the ultimate form of flattery. He _liked_ you."

Gabriella didn't deny she was flattered. He'd remembered details, made an effort because he actually wanted to see her again. Ad there had been a moment. That serendipitous spark before the real Tony had shown up.

Yet…she hadn't gotten past the annoyance and embarrassment over what had happened. How long would he have gone on lying to her if they hadn't been interrupted?

"How can I trust a guy who had multiple opportunities to come clean about not being my date and chose not to say anything?"

"He owns his unruly behavior on the card and apologized with the flowers," insisted Taylor. "That's got to earn some brownie points towards paying off the deficit."

"Are brownie points even a thing when you're not in a relationship?"

"You're avoiding the issue," Taylor exasperated. "Worst case scenario, you get a nice dinner and a chance to ream him out for his behavior on Saturday. Best case scenario, you find out who it is you _really_ made a connection with. Isn't it worth going to find out which one?"


	2. Chapter 2

He must be a glutton for punishment.

What other reason would Troy have for standing outside of her bakery waiting for a chance to talk to a woman who ignored his dinner request?

And why had he run home to shower and put on something decent before stopping by, rather than just heading straight over after work all sweaty and covered in sawdust? _Christ. What the fuck was he doing here?_

He was apologizing, that's what. No matter what her reaction would be, he at least wanted a chance to defend himself. Just a quick apology. Then he'll be one his way.

Troy pushed open the bakery door and stepped inside. The sweet scent of warm chocolate overpowered his senses, and he breathed deeply, letting the delicious aroma permeate every pore in his body. Yet he was alone in the bakery. The lights were on, but there were no customers. Hell, there weren't even any employees. Nothing.

Figuring someone forgot to lock up for the night, Troy turned to leave, but a strange gurgling noise drifted from the back room and stopped him in his tracks. Worried that someone, possibly Gabriella, might be hurt, he moved quickly around the counter towards a swinging door. "Hello?"

A weak, strangled voice came from the back. "I'm c-closed."

Troy recognized it as Gabriella's and pushed the swinging door open anyway. He found her standing in front of a long, stainless steel table wearing a shimmery black cocktail dress that easily rivaled the tight, sexy one she wore just a few days ago.

Surprised, Gabriella looked up with tears streaming down her cheeks before blushing and quickly turning away. "I…I said I'm closed."

"You okay?"

She sniffled a little and swiped at the tears in an effort to hide them. "I'm f-fine."

"You don't look fine." It slipped out before he realized how she might take it.

Gabriella cleared her throat, lifted her head and turned to face him. "What do _you_ want?" Her tone wasn't particularly friendly.

If she wanted to pretend nothing was wrong. Who was he to argue? "I stopped by to apologize for the other day."

"Fine." She said, her voice still cold. "Apology accepted."

He stepped further into the room and placed his hands on his waist. "Strange, since I haven't given you one yet."

"Look, I appreciate you coming by, but I really don't have the time for this right now," she snapped.

"What's your problem?"

She sighed heavily with defeat. "My air conditioner just went out in my car, and I have to figure out how to deliver a wedding cake without the heat melting the icing all over the place."

"That's what has you this upset?"

"Yes."

"Doesn't seem like much of a problem. It's just a cake."

"Just a cake?" She gawked at him. "I'll have you know, I use only the best ingredients in each of my creations and make everything from scratch. It's my ex-boyfriend's wedding cake, and I spent weeks planning out every detail of this cake, down to the last edible flower."

"Your ex, huh?" His lips curled involuntarily. "And someone's eating flowers? Real ones?"

She sniffled. "Yes, real ones. Some flowers petals are edible, you know. And they'll complement the cake's Bavarian cream filling."

Troy chuckled softly. "So, let me get this straight. You need to deliver your ex-boyfriend's wedding cake, topped with plants and filled with something that sounds like a venereal disease…and people are actually going to eat it?"

"Well, I suppose, if that's the way you want to look at it, but-"

He stood up straight and clapped his hands together. "Okay, let's go then."

"Huh?"

"You need a ride, don't you?"

"Yes, but- "

"Well, then what are you waiting for? I wouldn't miss this for anything."

* * *

Everyone was watching.

But that wasn't why Gabriella's hands were shaking. No, her hands were shaking because _he_ was watching. Mr. Fake Date's laser-beam gaze pinpointed her every move as she added the finishing touched to the now-assembled wedding cake.

Shortly after they'd arrived at the reception hall, a steady stream of people had begun trickling in, awaiting the bride and groom's grand entrance. Most were still gathered around her, oohing and ahhing over her intricately designed creation.

When the applause started, Gabriella knew it wasn't for her. She was out of time, and the happily wedded couple were now in the building. Thank goodness, she'd just scattered the last of the rose petals. If it hadn't been for Mr. Fake Date giving her a ride and helping unload all the cake boxes, she'd never have finished on time.

Gabriella took a step back and admired her work, her chest looked magnificent with all the carefully applied edible pearls and black curlicue piping. Organic red rose petals lined the perimeter of the base cake, not only had she outdone herself, but she'd created an artful masterpiece.

Then she heard a shriek behind her and turned to look. The bride-the blond, thin, little waif of a woman came running from across the room, dragging her reluctant groom behind her. "Our cake, George! Oh, isn't it gorgeous?"

Gabriella smirked. _Nailed it._

"Yes, dear. It's great." Clearly uncomfortable, George adjusted his collar with one finger. "Now why don't we go say hi to- "

"Are you the cake designer?" the bride asked in a syrupy-sweet voice, looking straight at Gabriella.

"Y-yes, I am," Gabriella replied, catching a glimpse of George as he stood next to his bride holding his breath. "I'm a…friend of the family."

George let out the breath and relaxed his posture. "Sweetheart, this is Gabriella Montez. She owns the Sweets n' Treats bakery over on Fifth, where my mother ordered the cake.

Gabriella clamped down on the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm so glad you liked the way it turned out," Gabriella said to the bride, offering her hand. "By the way, your dress is stunning."

The bride cocked her head, allowing light to glint off her tiara, and smiled. "Oh, thanks. It cost almost as much as the wedding did."

Gabriella grinned but didn't take the comment negatively. There was no mean-spiritedness in the bride's tone, just a shallow, gum-popping, valley girl vibe. As Gabriella started to open her mouth to respond, something caught the bride's attention. She released another girly squeal and ran off to join a group of girls all wearing the same short red dress. Apparently, the bridesmaids were more entertaining than Gabriella. _Thinner too_.

George stepped closer and smiled at Gabriella. "Thanks for not telling her that we used to date. It would've upset her."

Gabriella glanced over her shoulder at the bride twirling in circles amid her friends. "Nah. Your bride has the personality of a cocker spaniel and the attention span of a goldfish. She would've gotten over it in seconds." Then she gave him a wink to show she was teasing. _Not really._

George smiled. "Still, I appreciate it. Especially since I know we didn't leave things on the best of terms."

Gabriella shrugged. "I'm over it." _And you._ _Maybe. I think._

"Good. I'm glad to hear that. So how do you like owning your own bakery? You always said you wanted to open one."

"It's great, although it's impossible to work a single shift without wanting to eat my way through the menu. I've had to take up an extra spin class." _Note to self, look up spin classes._

An awkward silence followed so Gabriella let her gaze wander, searching for Mr. Fake Date, in hopes of using him as an excuse and a way out of this conversation. But he was standing off to the side about ten feet away, staring at her with a scowl on his face. _Maybe not._

"Well be careful," George said, chuckling a little. "Or you won't retain your girlish figure."

Gabriella gave a nonchalant wave of her hand. "Oh, you know me. The only thing I retain is water." _Jesus. What the hell is wrong with me? Do yourself a favor and shut up._

It was like talking to George again caused all her insecurities to unleash all at once, triggering all the conflict and stress behind her low self-esteem. He obviously hadn't liked her body when they were dating since he'd repeatedly tried to coerce her to lose more weight. And when she hadn't he dumped her and married Miss Anorexia.

The two pounds she gained on her thighs since their breakup suddenly became heavier. Gabriella lowered her head, not wanting to meet his gaze.

"Gabi, you look really great," George said.

"I agree," Mr. Fake Date said out of nowhere. "You look fantastic honey."

 _Honey?_ Gabriella's head jerked up just as he stepped in front of her, blocking her view of George. Without warning, he threaded his warm fingers through her hair at the nape of her neck and lowered his mouth to hers.

Gabriella stiffened, immobilized by the sudden invasion of her senses. _What the hell was he doing?_ But a man like him didn't need a reason to do anything. The moment his tongue parted her lips, she stopped caring about why this was happening and worried more about how.

He manipulated her mouth with his, diving into her depths enthusiastically, as shivery delight rippled through her. The mellow flavor of his lips was irresistible. Slightly tangy, yet heady, like a perfectly aged wine.

The moment she began to kiss him back, his hands gravitated to her waist, pulling her closer until their bodies connected. Rough fingers clenched the angle of their heads.

It was an impolite kiss. One filled with power and frustration. The kind of kiss two people share in the privacy of a bedroom while laying naked together between sweat-soaked sheets. This was not the way you kiss a stranger in front of a crowd of strangers.

 _But who gave a shit?_

Gabriella didn't. And apparently, he didn't either.

* * *

Troy couldn't take it any longer.

He'd watched Gabriella stand there in front of her ex-boyfriend, blushing and stammering uncomfortably as she cracked fat jokes about herself. He was sure it was some sort of defensive mechanism, but he didn't feel sorry for her. Nope, he was to pissed off to feel bad. He vaguely remembered thinking, _Okay, that's it!_ before he'd marched over and planted a kiss on her, hoping to give her a reality check.

But as his mouth moved over hers and he tasted the sugar-sweet vanilla flavor of her warm lips, Troy realized his plan backfired. He'd expected her to pull away in surprise, not open her mouth and allow him further access. _God, this woman is a firecracker._

When he managed to pull away he watched as Gabriella steadied herself with one hand on his chest, looking every bit as flustered and disturbed as he felt.

Then a voice cleared next to them, Troy remembered her ex-boyfriend's presence. Gabriella must have too because she blushed beet red, probably realizing she now sported a just bedded, tousled look. She quickly combed her fingers through her hair, taming the strands Troy had mussed, as though trying to reclaim a small shred of dignity.

"George, this is…this is…"

"Troy." He supplied with a chuckle.

"Right. He's my-"

"Fiancé," Troy said, cutting her off again. Gabriella blinked as if she hadn't heard him right, but Troy just smiled and kept talking. "It's nice to meet you. Heard a lot about you."

They shook hands, but George seemed a little lost for words. "Oh, I…uh…I hadn't even heard Gabriella was with anyone new, much less engaged. Gabriella and I used to date, but split up last year."

Troy gave him is megawatt seal the deal smile and put his arm around Gabriella's tense shoulders. "I'd say I'm sorry to hear that, but I'd be lying."

George glanced at Gabriella, then back at Troy. "Well, uh, congratulations. You're a lucky man."

 _Oh, we'll see how lucky I am when you walk away and Gabriella rips my head off my shoulders and shoves it up my ass. "_ Thanks. We appreciate the sentiment," Troy said while mentally rolling his eyes. He gave Gabriella's shoulders a little squeeze. "Don't we sweetie?"

"Y-yes, of course. I…um…George, I need a minute alone with my…fiancé."

"Sure. I need to find my new bride anyway. You two stick around for a while and enjoy the reception."

"Thanks," Gabriella said, clearly fake-smiling until he walked away. then she turned to Troy with a grimace planted firmly on her face. "What the fuck was that?" she asked quietly, keeping her voice low so the other guest couldn't hear her. "Do you get off on lying to people?"

"Believe it or not it only happens when I'm around you."

She crossed her arms and glared at him. "Who the hell are you?"

"Look, I was just trying to help you out. You were saying such awful things about yourself. I didn't want him to-"

"To what? Think I'm pathetic? I'm not your charity case. And what about tomorrow when he learns I'm suddenly not engaged? What then, huh?"

"I guess I didn't think that far."

Gabriella sighed. "Look, I know you were trying to help, but George's mother is the town gossip and sits on the City Council with my mom."

"Maybe he won't tell her."

"Are you kidding me?" Gabriella snorted. "My mother is going to flip. Then she'll probably kill me. Then maybe bury me alive. Then complain that she broke a nail or something in the process."

"She sounds endearing."

"George's mom is no saint either. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear she still bathes him. Although I would love to see her face when he tells Mommy Dearest I'm engaged to someone other than her precious baby boy, shit. I need to figure out what to tell my mom."

"Darling, there you are," a voice rang out from behind him.

Gabriella peered around him and sighed. "Oh great. Just what I freaking need right now."

Troy turned to see an older brunette woman wearing a shimmering black, floor-length gown approach from a few tables over. "I've been looking for you." Her scrutinizing gaze landed on Troy. "And I see you brought…a friend? Or is it possible you actually have a date?"

He didn't like the way Gabriella winced, nor did he appreciate the prying woman standing there eyeing them with a rude smirk on her seemingly perfect face. George's mother, he presumed.

"Actually, I'm Gabriella's fiancé," Troy corrected, grinning ear-to-ear.

He didn't know who gasp was louder, Gabriella's or the older woman. Both stood there blinking at each other for a full minute before Gabriella finally spoke up. "Mom, it's not what you think?"

 _Well, shit._

Troy waited for Gabriella's mother to break into a tearful display or, at the very least, purse her lips into a disapproving grimace. But she didn't. Instead, her eyes lit up and her face broke out into a full-on smile.

"Fiancé? When did this happen? I didn't even know you were seeing someone sweetheart. Why didn't you tell me?"

Troy raised a brow. This was the woman who was supposed to be upset?

"It's not like that mom. A few days ago, Troy and I-"

"He's the one who sent the flowers wasn't he!"

"Well, yes but-"

"Oh how romantic! And to think I was trying to set you up with Jason Cross, the city building inspector," her mother said. "I was planning on inviting him to come with us next weekend on our annual trip down to lake house."

"Oh God. Mom, please tell me you didn't."

"Well, no. Not yet anyway. I wanted to make sure you wouldn't mind sharing a room first."

Just hearing the name Jason Cross had Troy cringing. He'd dealt with him a few times when he delayed one of Troy's building permits. He was also said to be a chauvinistic pig. _Over my dead body._

"Well, I guess you'll just have to forget that idea," Troy said smiling at her mother. "I proposed to your daughter this morning." He wrapped his arm around Gabriella and pulled her closer, at this point she just fell against him and he'd be lying if he said the weight of her body against his didn't feel damn good.

"I need a drink," Gabriella murmured.

* * *

Gabriella knew her exit wasn't graceful.

She marched right past Troy, bumping his shoulder as she did, and kept going out a side entrance that led to the parking lot. _Where are you going? You hitched a ride here, remember._

He caught up with her just as she reached his truck and spun around.

"You're mad."

"Mad? Oh no. I'm not mad _, Troy,_ if that's even your real name?" Gabriella said tossing her hands, "I'm furious! What the hell were you thinking?"

"I'm sorry, I was just trying to help."

"My mother thinks I'm engaged."

"I know." Troy reached for his keys and opened the passenger door for her. "You can tell her we broke up. In fact, you can say you broke things off with me."

"Oh, so I can be the bitch who breaks my mother's heart and makes her cry? I don't think so." She crossed her arms, uncertain if she should even get in. Maybe she could get Taylor to pick her up.

"Nearly twenty minutes ago your mother was burying you alive now you're concerned with breaking her heart."

Gabriella uncrossed her arms as she spun around and began making her way towards the street. "Don't mock me. At least I don't lie about who I am every 5 minutes."

"Fine!" He said swinging his passenger door shut. "Then I'll break up with you."

"Before next Friday?" Gabriella spun around, staring at him blankly. "God, you're such an ass." After Troy's big announcement, she had stood there like an idiot, dumbstruck and silenced by her guilt, while her mother chatted with her fake fiancé, inviting him to join them on their weekend trip so he could meet the rest of the Montez clan. "First you agree to go on vacation with my family, and now you're going to cancel on them?"

"Okay, so I'll go on the trip with them."

"And lead them on? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Excuse me miss, is everything okay?" a concerned valet driver approached his eyes darting from Gabriella to Troy. _Just wonderful. Now they were a scene. They were causing a scene._

Gabriella took a deep breath as she tried her best to plaster on a smile. "Everything's alright, really."

He accepted her response and turned to head back inside.

"Maybe you should tell me what it is you expect me to do," Troy said quietly coming to stand beside her.

"I expect you to not tell people we're engaged when we aren't."

"Too late."

"Exxxxxaactly."

They were both quiet as they stood at the parking lot entrance. Troy shook his head. He probably thought she was acting crazy, and hell, maybe she was. But it was his fault that she was in this position with her mother.

"Let me take you home." He said quietly. "Please, it's the least I can do."

"Let me see your wallet." She said holding out her hand.

He raised a brow.

"Give it."

He reached into his back pocket and placed the smooth black wallet into her palm. She could feel his curious gaze as she opened the flap. "Troy Alexander Bolton. Blue eyes, 5'8, 155lbs, and an organ donor."

He smiled. He had a great smile.

 _Stop it._

She shifted through his wallet again and pulled out a business card. "Bolton Construction Company. Troy Bolton, President, and C..EO…" her voice trailed off. "Oh." Her eyes shifted up again and this time he was closer.

"Satisfied?" his voice was low but firm.

She nodded. "So, you work in construction."

"Among other things, I also do some consulting here and there." The corners of his mouth twitched. "I have a special gift for problem-solving."

Gabriella handed him back his wallet. "Was that supposed to be impressive?"

Troy glanced over, giving her a "get real" look, then shifted his eyes down to her dress. His blue eyes were doing that weird smoldering thing again she'd seen earlier after the kiss. That kiss. It was embarrassing enough that Troy felt the need to do her a "favor" by giving her a toe-curling, spine-tingling kiss. _Jesus. It was a pity kiss._

After a moment of silence, Troy finally spoke up. "If you're interested," he said as he tucked his wallet into his back pocket. "I have an idea."

"At least one of us does."

"Why not continue the ruse?"

"Because I don't want to marry you, I hardly know you."

"I have an event to attend this weekend. I was going to face it alone, but seeing as how this situation is staring us both in the face with an opportunity, maybe we can make this work."

"You need a date, not a wife."

"You would be my date."

"So what? My family thinks were engaged but your family just gets to think I'm just some girl?"

Troy stood up a little straighter. "Would you like to be my fiancé?"

Gabriella's mouth fell open as she turned her body to face him head-on. "You did not just proposition me for marriage, in a parking lot!"

"Would you rather we have this conversation in my truck?" he motioned in the direction that they came from.

"I'd rather be home, in bed, with a bag of Cheetos."

At that, he smiled. "Look, I did get you into this situation, to begin with. I am going to get you out of it, but I figured we could work out a little horse trade on the side. If I do this for you, then you have to do something for me."

"Something as in…"

"Well, let's start small." His eyes roamed over her body once more before he settled on her lips. "You are an expert in oral gratification, aren't you?"

Gabriella rolled her eyes and turned to begin walking home. "Good night, Troy."

His hand shot out and gripped hers. "Calm down. I'm just kidding with you. Well, sort of. I _do_ want something."

Wary, she cocked her head and lifted a brow, awaiting his response. He chuckled a little. "What does a guy have to do to get some dessert around here?"

* * *

As he rounded the rounded the front bumper, Gabriella met him on the sidewalk. She unlocked the bakery door, flipped on the lights and Troy followed her as they made their wait to the back room. Gabriella walked straight to the walk-in cooler, grabbed a cellophane-wrapped platter and a gallon of milk, then carried them back out, kicking the metal door closed behind her with her heel.

When she returned, Troy was examining a softball-size hole in the wall behind the metal swinging door. "What happened here?"

She shrugged. "Honestly, no idea. The hole was there when I leased the place. Not sure what caused it."

"Are you planning to fix it?"

Gabriella let out a laugh as she set down the platter and milk down on the stainless-steel countertop. "I'm not exactly raking it in, repairs like that aren't in my budget right now."

Troy joined her at the counter and pulled up a stool just as she peeled back the plastic wrap covering the platter. His eyes brightened and his mouth quirked into a smile. But as his eyes bounced around from each concoction to the next his smile suddenly fell. "No chocolate?"

"Always the first to sell out," she said turning to grab two glasses from a cabinet behind her. She poured them both a glass of milk.

Troy lifted a red velvet cupcake, pulled back the paper from around the edges, and took a large bite. He licked the white cream cheese frosting from his lips and grinned. "Never mind. This will do."

Gabriella pushed the glass of milk towards him as he shoved the other half of the cupcake into his mouth. She stood there for a while watching him eat most of his second cupcake before asking, "What do you think?"

Troy held up a finger as he polished off the second cupcake. He took a drink of milk, then pulled the entire platter closer to him. "I think you need to fix the hole in the wall," he finally said.

Gabriella frowned. "I was talking about the cupcakes."

Troy grinned. "So was I, in fact, I think we could work out one more trade. If you're interested?"

"You love to trade, don't you?" she lifted a brow and watched him rip the paper off another cupcake.

"I'm a contractor. It's what I do for a living- build and remodel houses and buildings. If you want, I can fix the hole in your wall, and you can pay me…in dessert."

Gabriella looked down at the small pile of decorative cupcake wrappers he'd accumulated in less than five minutes and shook her head. "I don't think I can afford you."

Troy grinned and picked up another cupcake, this time choosing one with toasted coconut scatter across the top. "Well, think about it. You can let me know after I finish these off."

Gabriella laughed, "You're not going to eat eight cupcakes."

"You're right, I'm not. I'm going to be a gentleman and save you one."

Gabriella let out another laugh as she reached for a carrot cake with vanilla icing. "So, let me get this straight, if I pretend to be your girlfriend, you'll help me figure out how to tell my family I'm not your fiancé. And if I make your cupcakes, you'll help me fix up my shop."

"Chocolate cupcakes."

Gabriella was hesitant, she lifted her eyes to his. He was sitting a little straighter than before. "How long?"

"Two weeks."

She considered his words. How bad could it be? She'd get some repairs done, she didn't have to face her family on her own with the truth, plus all she had to do was pretend that the man sitting across from her was the answer to her prayers.

Wasn't he?

Her eyes shifted from his to his shoulders, to his unbuttoned flannel shirt and stopped at grey cotton shirt covering his chest. He was attractive. It wouldn't be all that hard to pretend to like him. Plus, she really did like him, despite the all the lying.

"What do you say, sweetheart, do we have a deal?"

This had trouble written all over it. "I'm in."


	3. Chapter 3

After a long day of work, Troy pulled up in front of the bakery and dragged himself out of his truck. He'd been on the construction site of their latest build all morning. Normally, nothing ever made him feel as good as getting down and dirty with the crew but after leaving the bakery last night he hadn't gotten much sleep.

He'd tossed and turned all night thinking about Gabriella. He'd tried everything to get her off his mind but nothing seemed to work. He kept thinking about that damn hole in her kitchen wall. It was bothering him.

He grabbed his toolbox, a small tub of joint compound, and a leftover section of sheetrock from the back of his truck and carried them towards the bakery. The neon sign was off, but that didn't stop him from turning the knob and letting himself in. It was only fifteen minutes after closing and figured Gabriella would still be inside puttering around.

When he heard the music coming from the back room his suspicion was confirmed. He made his way to back and pushed the swinging door to find the kitchen empty. _Where was she?_ He started to call out her name, but before he could, she came walking out from a closet with her arms wrapped around a bag of flour.

Tonight, she wore her hair up in a sloppy ponytail, probably the wear and tear from a long day. She was wearing an oversized grey shirt that had been cut to make the neck hole bigger. Her light blue jeans were snug and her sneakers squealed along the floor. She looked even more radiant than the last few times he'd seen her all dolled up. His eyes stopped when he noticed her shirt hung over her shoulder revealing a bright green bra strap.

"Oh my god," she lurched forward, tightening her hold on the bag of flour, and breathing so hard he thought she might faint.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to barge in or anything."

Gabriella moved towards one of steel tables and put the bag down. "Damn it, Troy! You scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here?"

"I came to fill your hole."

Her eyes widened underneath her bangs. "Excuse me?"

Troy smiled as he laid the section of sheetrock on the table and rapped on it with his knuckles. "The hole in your wall."

"Oh, I…um, okay."

"What's for dessert?"

Gabriella smiled, "Well if I'd known you were coming by tonight, I would've have saved you the rest of the pecan bars I sent home with Taylor. But since you don't know how to call in advance. I guess I'll have to figure something out."

"Might want to get to figuring then because I'm not touching your hole until you do."

She stood motionless, gawking at him, as she inhaled a large breath. "I can't decide if I should call you a pervert or not."

Troy smirked. "I work with a rowdy crew of men, I guess you get immune to the language." Or he just liked watching her get a little huffy.

Sixty percent of his job was attending meetings, drafting plans and meeting new clients. The other forty percent was working with his hands. While his father had paved the way for Troy to lead the company from the luscious office chair, Troy enjoyed working with the crew on the site more.

"How about some bran muffins?"

"How about I leave?"

She laughed, "Okay, fine. Um, well I have a great recipe for a sour cream pound cake."

"Uh-uh. You can't convince me to eat something by telling me it's rotten. Try again and this time with the word chocolate thrown in."

Gabriella grinned at him. "I can make a chocolate pie from scratch in about twenty minutes, but it would need to set up and chill in the cooler for at least an hour."

He nodded and flipped open his toolbox. "Works for me. That's about how long it's going to take me to spackle your hole."

"Pervert." She narrowed her eyes in a playful manner.

Troy laughed.

* * *

Gabriella carefully measured the flour and the unsweetened cocoa while Troy pulled off his green flannel shirt. Her mouth went dry as the white T-shirt he wore underneath tightened against his firm abs with every movement. She kept her eyes focused in his direction, waiting to see if he'd pull the undershirt off too.

But he never did.

Probably a good thing though. the last night Gabriella needed was to see him without a shirt. her mind was already running rapidly with thoughts of how those jeans fit snugly against his ass. Good lucking getting rid of that mental image.

She added water to the powdery mixture and whisked it in a double boiler until it formed a smooth paste, then glanced up to check his progress. Troy had just finished cutting a squared-off section around the hole in the wall with a utility knife. He pulled the damaged drywall loose, making the white dust rain onto his work boots.

"Shouldn't you be filling in the hole, not making it bigger?"

He eyed her playfully and raised a brow. "You wanna do this yourself?"

She smiled as she shook her head. "Nope."

He pulled out a tape measure, marked the new piece of drywall he'd carried in with him with a pencil, and cut it.

"Do you like construction work?"

Troy grinned as he sliced the new piece down the sides and peeled the back of the drywall off. "I do. It's satisfying to work with your hands. I imagine you know something about that being a baker and all."

Gabriella nodded as she added some sugar and beaten egg yolks to the paste she made. "My mother thinks I'm strange."

"My father's the same. Can't get his head around the fact that the heir to the Bolton kingdom would much rather be slinging dirt with the crew rather than being stuck behind a desk."

Gabriella raised a brow as she watched him lift the new piece and fit it into the hole, tapping to squeeze it into the tight space. Two inches of paper overlapped the wall on each side. "Why are you doing it like that? It looks odd."

"It's called a butterfly patch. I cut the section a little bigger, scored the sheetrock along the border and pulled off the chunks of plaster, these paper flaps will hang over the wall to secure it."

"I've never seen anyone fix a hole like that before."

"Well, that's because you don't have a stud here…well, unless you count me, of course." Troy gave her a quick wink that made her stomach twirl. "This is the easiest way to fix a hole in the wall when there's nothing to nail it to."

He bent down and opened a tub of something that looked like whitish-gray frosting while Gabriella added milk and a touch more water to her chocolate concoction and whisked it all together.

"What's that?" she asked, turning the stove's heat down low.

Troy shot her a look. "You sure you don't want to fix this yourself, sweetheart?"

"Sorry, curiosity." She headed to the walk-in.

He laughed and called out, "You know, I'm not breathing down your neck and asking you why you're baking a pie on the stove rather than in the oven am I?"

Gabriella emerged from the cooler with an already prepared pie crust in her hand. "I never said anything about baking a pie. I said I'd make a chocolate pie. The only thing I have to actually bake is the pie crust…which I'm about to do."

"So, in other words, I got screwed?" Troy asked, chuckling to himself.

She tossed it in the preheated oven and whisked the chocolate filling again, making sure it had started to thicken. Glancing up, Gabriella froze when she saw what he was doing. "You? I think I'm the one getting screwed here. Look at the mess you're making in my kitchen."

Troy pursed his lips. "Sweetheart, if I was screwing you, you'd know it. Trust me on that."

He glanced over at her and his eyes did that weird smoldering thing again, causing a shot of pure lust to run straight down Gabriella's center.

"Besides, I'll clean it up. All part of the job."

Gabriella didn't say anything else for a while. Mostly because she was still trying to steady herself after his remark about screwing her. Images of being lifted on to the steel table top and ravaged like one of her sweet treats kept flooding her mind. It was enough to make her squeeze her thighs together slightly to relieve the tension.

"Can I ask you something?" he said at last.

She'd just placed the pie in the cooler to chill, and had begun cleaning up the mess she'd made. "Sure."

Troy stopped sanding let out a breath. "Why did you blow me off?"

Gabriella picked up a bowl and made her way to the dishwasher. "You already lied to me once. I really didn't appreciate being made a fool of." Quickly, she glanced in his direction. "Was anything you told me actually true that afternoon?"

"All of it," Troy said without hesitation.

She lifted one dark brow in suspicion.

"I never lied to you, Gabriella. You just showed up and sat down and started talking."

"And you managed to talk back for almost an hour without mentioning that I'd made a mistake."

"I'll own that. but you're interesting and beautiful and I didn't want you to leave. So, I might have sidestepped the truth to avoid lying."

Gabriella frowned. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Just telling it like it is. You started the whole thing when you brought me coffee."

"That was Kelsi's doing."

"Remind me to send Kelsi flowers."

A laugh escaped Gabriella lips before she had the chance to stifle it. He didn't say anything else after that. Quietly, she watched him work. The way his muscles bunched and flex under his thin undershirt. The way his capable hands gripped the spatula with strength and endurance, yet smoothed over the wall with a soft, delicate touch. The room would've have been completely quiet if it wasn't for the sloshing sound of the dishwasher and the scraping of metal along the wall.

When the pie was chilled, Gabriella retrieved two plates, forks and a piping bag filled with whipped cream. She cut them both a slice and topped each with a white dollop. "Ready for dessert?"

Troy turned, wearing a wide grin. "Just finished," he said dusting his hands on his jeans. "All you have to do is paint the patch job to match the rest of the wall. Mind if I wash up in your sink?"

"Not at all."

As Troy washed up, Gabriella looked over his handiwork. Not only was the hole completely gone, but she couldn't see the seams anymore either. If it hadn't been for the assorted colors of the patched wall, she would have never known there had ever been a hole to start.

"Wow! Troy, you did a fantastic job."

He walked up behind her. "Still feel like you got screwed?"

Her cheeks heated. "Not yet."

Troy smiled wickedly and motioned to the pie. "That looks good."

Gabriella felt her cheeks begin to burn and she shifted away from him, sliding the piece of chocolate pie toward the empty stool.

He didn't sit right away, he went to retrieve his flannel shirt and shrugged into it. "Tomorrow going to be pretty crazy."

"Tomorrow?" Gabriella arched her brows.

"My father's engagement party, remember?" Troy smiled as he reached into the pocket of his flannel. "This, however, is for next weekend, with your parents. I thought you might want to use this." He held out a large diamond solitaire engagement ring in white gold.

"What is that?"

"It's an engagement ring."

"No."

"Take it," he offered.

"No. Forget it, no." Gabriella backed away, "are you crazy?"

"What's the big deal? Just try it on," he said holding the ring up between them.

"You can't be serious." Her eyes watched him for a moment as he held the ring out to her with a smile. "Oh my god. You _are_ serious."

"If we want to convince everyone this is real, then we-"

"You're out of your mind."

"Gabriella."

"How on earth did you even get a ring that fast? What? Do you have them on hand? Do you just propose at random so much that you have a jar full of them next to your keys?"

His mouth fell open and his head fell back into a deep laugh. The warm, amused smile he wore sent a zing of pleasure through Gabriella like she'd been given an intravenous shot of serotonin. _Wow._

"you're absolutely ridiculous."

Gabriella looked up to meet his eyes. "I can't take that."

"Why not?"

"That's a real engagement ring. And that doesn't look like it came from Walmart."

"Well, we do want people to actually believe we're engaged."

She was hesitant for a moment. "It probably won't fit."

"I measure things for a living. Give me a little credit."

After another pause, Gabriella nervously held out her hand.

Troy slid the ring onto her finger. "Perfect fit. See that wasn't so bad."

Gabriella leaned back a little as she admired the diamond on her finger. This was crazy. Her eyes shifted towards Troy as he took his first bite of the pie. He closed his eyes and his mouth turned up into a smile.

"Sooo," Gabriella said with a smirk, "Do you feel like _you_ got screwed?"

"Oh yeah. In all the right ways too," Troy said with a moan. "Jesus. This is almost better than sex."

Gabriella needed to change the subject. Any more sexual comments and she'd be up all night with her fantasies.

Her eyes looked at the ring on her finger again. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about all this. I know we had an agreement, but I don't really expect you to keep your end of the deal and go on this family weekend thing. I can just call my mom and-"

"No, Gabriella. Like you said, I got you into this mess. It's only fair that I get you out of it."

"That's sweet, Troy. Really. But it's not going to work anyways. No one in my family is going to believe we're dating, much less engaged. We hardly even know each other."

"I already thought of that." He grinned and shoveled another big bite into his mouth. "Debriefing session. Tonight. You can come to my house."

"Why your house?"

"It would be a little strange if my girlfriend doesn't know where I live or remember anything about my house." He said with a chuckle. "The truth is always easier to remember than lies. Less of a chance that one of us will mess this up."

"Speaking from experience?"

"There are so many things about you I can't wait to experience."

* * *

The building was breathtaking.

It felt like something out of a movie with its gleaming marble floors, a massive bank of elevators with attendants at the ready.

"Evening, Mr. Bolton," the security guard called from his glass box. Troy waved, and they exchanged brief pleasantries as they headed for the elevator. It didn't escape her attention that Troy had bothered to retain names of the guy's kids and the fact that his daughter just graduated to the next level of Girl Scouts.

"Going to your office, Mr. Bolton?" The elevator attendant asked with a cheerful smile. He nodded at Gabriella in acknowledgment.

"Yes, Steve. Thanks." Troy rested his hand on the small of her back, lightly, just a ghost of a touch. But it was like every inch of her suddenly came alive _. Who was this man?_ "Steve this is Ms. Gabriella Montez, she's my girlfriend."

Steve took this in stride, as any professional elevator attendant would. Although there was a hint of surprise. "It's wonderful to meet you, Ms. Montez."

Gabriella nodded in response, not having the faintest idea of what to say. She found herself spending the rest of the ride up thinking about the situation. She barely knew anything about this man, yet here she was. His girlfriend.

When the doors opened, she took a deep breath and stepped out. The hallway was so long she couldn't see the end on either side, so she waited for Troy to follow, guiding her to the left and down another hallway.

"How big is this place?" she muttered under her breath, mostly to herself. He just smiled, gesturing her toward the huge double doors that evidently led into his office.

She bit the inside of her cheek to stifle a gasp. The whole back wall was nothing but picture windows, displaying a gorgeous cityscape. She couldn't stop herself from walking over to them, pressing up against the glass and staring down until she started to feel a rush of vertigo.

"Careful," Troy's hand took her elbow. "Don't look down."

Gabriella turned to look around the rest of the office. It was skillfully decorated, but it paled in comparison to the view. She walked around the perimeter, while Troy took a seat at his desk. His blue eyes just watching her as she moved. It was a strange feeling.

One the wall furthest from the door, there were several plaques and awards displayed, most of them emblazoned with names of organizations or societies that meant nothing to her. Her eyes were drawn to some of the plainer, more official looking certificates, and she slowly began to realize what they were.

Diplomas, He had a bachelor's degree and masters in building & constructions, both from NYU. Her brow furrowed,

"Are these real?"

He laughed, "Yes, I really did win 'Most Improved' in Little League. Also, the diplomas didn't come from Kinko's. What kind of question is that?"

Gabriella sighed. "Obviously I know they're real, I just meant… I thought maybe they were honorary degrees or something. I'm sorry."

Shrugging, he gestured to the chairs opposite his desk. "It's alright, lots of people assume the same thing. But I earned every degree you see there with years of boring lectures and internships just like every other guy."

"You are _not_ every other guy."

Troy smiled, "I wanted you to see my office. This building as much as it feels like a cage is a home away from home for me."

Gabriella let out a breath, "Sweet baby Jesus, I thought this was your house."

Troy let out another laugh. "No, just my place of work."

"This place is crazy," she said walking towards one of the chairs. "I mean, I would never have expected this at all."

"Why?" he asked curiously.

Gabriella shrugged and glanced around. "You look so out of place here." She picked up a miniature brass model of a construction helmet and held in her hand. "This place screams of power, business and money."

"And me?"

Gabriella placed the model back on his desk. "I'm not sure, but this isn't it."

"You have no idea how refreshing you are," Troy said leaning forward and resting his chin against his fist. "Are you sure you I can't take you to dinner?"

"Some say refreshing, others call it naïve. And no. We already have a deal and dating isn't part of it."

He liked her. A lot.

* * *

"We're here," he announced, taking the stairs two at a time up to the front door of his favorite brownstone.

Gabriella lifted her eyebrows a little.

"What?" he asked, pressing his thumb to the pad and punching in the code to unlock the door. "Not what you expected?"

She shrugged a little. "Where I come from, the idle rich have much bigger houses than this. But I guess that's one of the hazards of living in the city."

He laughed. She hadn't seen the inside yet.

Stepping inside she caught her breath. His mother had hired only the best to deck the place out. He would have been happy with a couch and big screen television, but his mother had insisted this made the better impression. And he was very happy with the result. Even in the middle of a quiet town, it still had the feel of an elegant mansion isolated on a hill.

It was always fun to watch the realization dawn on someone's face, he didn't just have a place in this building, this building was his place.

"You own this?" she asked, her hand resting on the glossy banister at the foot of the staircase.

Troy nodded. "The whole block. But this is the only place I live in."

With a bewildered little laugh, she walked past the staircase and around the corner to poke her head into the library. "This place is huge."

It was the smallest room he had, but he didn't bother mentioning that.

"You want a drink?" he asked. "Something to eat? Whatever, just name it. Make yourself at home."

She walked into the library and sat down on the leather love seat, kicking off her shoes and bringing one up, tucking it underneath her. "I'm good."

 _Christ. If she tasted anything like she looks and smells, I'd be in heaven._

Troy smiled and walked into the library taking a seat on the other end of the love seat. "We should go over some of the basics for tomorrow night."

"Such as?"

"It's my father's engagement party."

"Is this real?"

Troy smiled as he leaned back on the love seat. Most people bit their tongue because he was a Bolton. He knew the assumptions that people made about him and his family when they saw someone who made as much money as they did.

But not her. She treated him like she would probably treat everyone else. She made jokes, at his expense, she didn't go out of her way to seem attractive or catch his attention. He grinned to himself. Okay, so he liked her. He liked that he hadn't intimidated her. He liked that she didn't back down, all signs pointed to her being a little bit of a spitfire, determined, unwilling to bow to anyone's authority unless it suited her purposes.

For once, someone other than his ex-wife was dominating his thoughts. It was a strange feeling, exhilarating, like taking a deep gulp of fresh air after being cooped up for a long time. Maybe that was his problem. He'd been looking for someone all this time, but his heart wasn't in it.

"It's his sixth marriage actually." He said finally.

"Holy cannoli."

"This one is to a woman named Marissa who is actually the mother of his seven-year-old son Christian."

"You have a seven-year-old brother? How old are you?"

"28." Troy let out a breath, "Marissa is 27"

"Ew."

Troy shrugged. "My father likes to fall in love often, with younger women, preferably my nannies."

"What about your mom?"

"She's happily remarried to Ted, My old high school basketball coach."

Gabriella made a face. "At least you bring people together."

He chuckled. "What about you?"

"What about me?" Gabriella said with a frown.

"Is there anything I should know?"

"Shortlist?" she waited for him to nod, then took a deep breath. "I'm 23. I can't whistle, I'm afraid of birds, and I always check behind the shower curtain before peeing."

"Seriously?" he asked with a huge grin on his face.

"Troy, if you make fun of me…"

He shook his head. "I won't, I promise. I'm just curious about one thing though. What do you expect to see behind the curtain when you check?"

She cringed. "A…um…murderer?" It sounded like a question.

Troy stared at her for a full ten seconds before he burst into laughter.

"Damn it, Troy," she said leaning over to give him a shove. "That's it. I'm not telling you anything else."

"Aw, come on," he said, still chuckling. "It's funny."

"No, it's not."

His laughter quieted. "Okay, I'm done. Keep going."

"Nope."

"You have to, otherwise we won't be able to convince anyone we're a couple. Go ahead. I promise I won't laugh."

She eyed him suspiciously but continued. "Well, I don't like raw tomatoes. I don't care for spaghetti and I hate anything grape or cherry flavored."

"Any siblings?"

"I have a younger brother. He's 17."

Troy nodded. "How do you take your coffee?"

The question looked as if it caught her off guard. "Two creams, two sugars."

Troy pushed himself up from the couch. "I'll be right back with your coffee."

* * *

Gabriella gave it a second before the silence of the room began to give her the chills. She pushed up from the couch and followed in the direction he left until she was in the doorway of his kitchen. A gasp left her lips as the massive, gleaming, state-of-the-art kitchen almost made her knees wobble.

"Wow," Gabriella tried hard not to drool as Troy looked up from where he was filling the coffee maker.

"You like my kitchen?"

Her own kitchen was a joke. A stove and sink smashed together with one cabinet that allowed enough counter space for her mini coffee maker, but Troy's kitchen was so much more than functioning. It had two sinks and an island and a double oven and, wow, was that a Majestic Pro Industrial Size and Strength Stand Mixer in brushed chrome?

Gabriella walked over and caressed the appliance's cool metal. It was beautiful, a work of art. It belonged in a museum. "Your mixer," she said. "I want to lick it."

Troy laughed. "Well, it's yours whenever you want. The whole kitchen is open to you anytime."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

He laughed again as he reached into the cabinet for two mugs. She arched a brow. She really couldn't figure him out. He had money, most people who had money seemed so out of touch with reality, and she would know. Her mother worked with them, people like that always came over for dinner, they always invited her parents to parties, and she almost always felt like she was being judged by them.

But not him. He seemed so normal. Aside from the pathological lying.

"Why do you need a date for this thing away?"

Troy set the mugs on the counter by the coffee machine and turned around so that he was leaning against the counter. "I don't need a date, I just… want the company."

Gabriella let out a breath as she backed up and lifted herself up so she was sitting on the island by the sink. "You didn't have to put a ring on my finger to get me to come over, you know?" Gabriella caressed the chrome facet in envy. "You could have just shown me a picture of your mixer."

"I'll keep that in mind for next time." He said with an amused expression. "You have something…" Troy reached up and pushed back a stray piece of her hair, showing her a tiny piece of fuzz that he quickly tossed over his shoulder. The motion had brought him closer, almost between her legs but not quite. She tried to breathe, but he was so close.

She wasn't used to having any guy this close to her. No one that looked at her the way Troy was looking at her now… like he wanted to take a bite out of her. His smell was intoxicating and for a moment she indulged in the idea of ending the space that separated them. Thought about that kiss from the other night. The possibilities of what might happen if they weren't in a crowded room.

She was suddenly very warm.

"What are your parents like?"

Gabriella let out a slow breath. "My dad's name is Luis. He's ridiculously superstitious and constantly tells the same stories over and over again. He thinks they're funny, but trust me, they're not. Oh, and he's a tightwad. Hates to spend money if he can get out of it."

"And your mom…Maria, right?"

"Yes, and she collects antiques. Which is weird, since she usually wants everything to be so…perfect." Inwardly, she cringed. If she didn't tell him the truth about her mom, he'd pick up on it himself the moment they arrived at the lake house. So, Gabriella sighed and said, "Including me."

"What do you mean?"

"My mom is a bit critical of me. My weight, career choices, love life. She thinks my BFF is a burrito, and before you came into the picture, she thought the only chance I had at getting married was lost when George dumped me. She hates that I'm not as feminine as she hoped. That I prefer to spend my life making calorie riddled desserts than spending my time in heels and rubbing elbows with the elite."

"Ouch. That's harsh."

"Not really. I'm used to it."

"Shitty thing to get used to."

Gabriella shrugged. "She constantly makes snide remarks, though she thinks of it more as 'sharing her wisdom.'"

Troy's lips formed a thin, tight line. "Bullshit."

"She shook her head. "I know it sounds bad, but I don't think she means it the way it comes across."

"Don't do that," he said placing a hand on her thigh. "You don't have to defend her. It's wrong for her to belittle you, whether she means to or not. There is no excuse for anyone, especially family, to treat someone that way."

"I know, but it's just-"

"No buts, Gabriella."

She smiled halfheartedly at him, knowing he was right. He backed away from her and she instantly missed his closeness.

"I still have more questions. And this time, I need to ask you something really personal."

The smile faded from her lips. "You're not going to ask me how much I weigh, are you?"

Troy turned around and gave her a _yeah, right_ look. "No, not that kind of personal. And I want you to know, there is nothing wrong with your weight. Personally, the weight you do have is perfectly portioned in all the proper places a man prefers. For the sake of this conversation I want you to think of something little more intimate."

"There is nothing more intimate than asking a girl what she weighs, I mean it's not like you're asking me…" Heat rushed to her face, but she hoped he wouldn't notice her blushing since his back was turned. "You're not talking about what I think you are, are you?"

"Sex," he said as he poured the creamer.

"Um, maybe we should draw the line right there."

"Oh, come on, Gabriella. We're both adults here. It's a natural act, one that most women tend to like. Besides, it's just a few simple questions to answer. It will help me get to know you a little better."

She watched as he came across the space between them and handed her a steaming mug of coffee. "You first."

"Okay, what do you want to know?"

Gabriella took the mug from him and gently blew into the mug. She didn't expect him to go along with that. He was completely silent as he watched her, lifting his own mug for a sip.

"How many women?" It was the first thing that came to mind.

"Two," he said matter of fact. "How many men?"

"One," she said quietly. "There's only really been, George."

Troy nodded. "Are you one for public displays?"

"No," she answered immediately. "It's awkward when people watch."

"Watch you do what?"

Gabriella shrugged. "Kiss, make out…I don't know, I just feel like people will be disgusted."

"If you're too busy thinking about what other people think, someone isn't doing their job correctly."

Gabriella's mouth fell open. "See? This is why I didn't want to talk about this, now I'm some kind of a prude."

"What about oral sex?"

Gabriella forced her mouth shut. "God, this just keeps getting worse. What about you? Why am I only answering these questions?"

"I enjoy a little public display. It's territorial. I'm showing everyone else what's mine."

Her eyes widen as small swirl of excitement pulsed down below. "And the other thing?"

"Have you ever met a man who doesn't like a blowjob?" he arched his brow in curiosity.

Gabriella closed her eyes instantly and was overcome with mental images of performing oral sex on him. Her eyes flew back open and he was staring at her with a dumbfounded expression. Then he continued to stare at her, apparently not knowing what else to say.

"I've never had a guy…" she glanced down. "You know."

"I seriously don't know if I do," he said placing his mug on the counter beside her.

"You know," she said again pointing at her nether reigns.

Troy chuckled. "There's like a hundred ways to say it. Just pick one: perform oral sex, go down on you, yodel in the canyon, eat your pus-"

"Okay, stop." She shook her head and laughed. "Pervert."

"When you run a construction crew, you tend to pick up a few things."

"No kidding."

"So why not?" he asked shifting so that he was a little closer to her.

How did he do that, just sneak up on her like that? Closing the space between them as if it were nothing. "I don't know, I mean my mother is right about one thing. I am not a size two. And the last thing I want is anyone in the male population to get an up-close view of my thunder thighs and realize that for himself."

Troy let out a low breath as he took a step closer. "Sweetheart, _any_ guy would be lucky to have your bare thighs wrapped around his ears."

A familiar heat seared her cheeks.


	4. Chapter 4

Gabriella flung open the doors of her closet and tore through it looking for something to wear. One by one, she whipped clothes off their hangers, tossing them onto the bed as possible choices and continued searching for something better.

"What are you looking for?" Taylor asked, watching her friend rush around the room like a maniac.

"A dress, or skirt, I don't know something you wear to an engagement party."

"I thought that was next weekend."

"It is, tonight is his dad's engagement party."

Taylor raised a brow. "Right, silly me."

Gabriella trucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't know what to wear to a party like this. This isn't some stupid backyard gathering, his family is made of money, I'm sure they have expectations for someone like me."

"Question, are you killing yourself over what to wear because you care or because you're pretending too?"

"What?" Gabriella turned from the mirror where she was modeling a red skirt on tiptoe.

"Just admit that you like him."

"I do not," Gabriella fell back on her heal. "He's nice. That's all."

"So then why does what you wear tonight matter?"

Gabriella groaned, "It just does."

Taylor let out a laugh as fell onto the bed. "Okay, fine. I'll indulge. What about a little black dress?"

Gabriella shifted through her closet and pulled out a floral print chiffon midi tank dress. "Like this?"

"It's casual enough but still very cocktail."

Gabriella held the dress up to her body as she looked in the mirror. "Are you sure? I don't want to look like a chubby baby seal."

"You won't, that dress looks really good on you."

Without argument, Gabriella began switching into her dress. "This whole situation is giving me hives. I hate lying."

"Well, you could just face the alternative," Taylor said as she reached for a half empty bag of chips that were on the nightstand. "Tell your mom. Tell George. Cancel next weekend engagement party and let him go stag tonight.

"I rather die."

Taylor offered the bag of chips in her direction. "Then I guess you better get something for those hives."

Gabriella shook her head. "No, that's okay. I was so hungry earlier, I ate my lipstick off. Now I have to reapply it."

"Those are just your nerves. You should really learn to calm down."

Calm down? Ha! Easy for her to say. She wasn't about to deliver the performance of a lifetime to a room full of strangers. She didn't have to lie to her parents about being happily engaged to a man whose sole purpose was to get her to dump him publicly. All because he feels sorry for her.

Gabriella slid into the dress and waited for her friend's assessment, though she'd already formed her own opinion. "Well?"

Taylor's face broke into a slow grin. "Perfect."

The buzzard echoed through her apartment which had them both racing to the bedroom window overlooking the front of the bakery.

"Crap!" Gabriella said as Troy stood out on the sidewalk in front of black Aston Martin. "He's here early."

He was wearing a suit, relaxed completely cool. He adjusted the collar of his blue button-down shirt and ran his fingers through his golden chestnut hair.

"And hellooo, totally delish!" Taylor exclaimed. "I totally understand your reasons for lying."

Gabriella pulled away from the window and playful nudge Taylor with her elbow. "Shut up."

"The man can make you come just by looking at him."

Gabriella snorted and took another appreciative glance at Troy. Maybe Taylor had a point. Not that it mattered though. Troy was only doing any of this to soothe his conscience and get her out of the jam he put her in, to begin with.

"Don't worry," Taylor said, double-timing it to the stairs leading down to the bakery. "I'll stall him. Just finish getting ready."

"Tay…"

"It's okay. I'll be good, I promise." Taylor winked.

Well, Gabriella could use a few more minutes to get ready. 'Alright, tell him I'll be down in ten."

Taylor started down the stairs, then hesitated and glanced back at Gabriella. "Babe, are you sure this is just you doing him a favor?"

Gabriella nodded, confused as to why her friend was asking such a thing.

"Then do yourself a favor," she said her eyes lowering as if she were deep in thought. "Don't get too attached to Troy. It will only lead to heartbreak." She offered Gabriella a sincere smile then disappeared.

Of course, Taylor was right. Maybe if Gabriella reminded herself of that enough, she could keep from growing too fond of Troy. Thought it was probably a little too late for that already. The only way she'd be able to protect herself was by not reading into anything that happened. Pretending to date a guy she already liked wasn't going to be an issue. The problem was knowing he'd never reciprocate those feelings.

Gabriella sighed heavily and slipped on her favorite heels, she was lucky to find anything at all in her closet to wear, most of what she owned was stuff she wore around the bakery. Looking back in the mirror she nodded in approval then looked back at her face and hair. Her curls had fallen just a tad and were now relaxed around her shoulders. Grabbing her pink makeup case, she rummaged through it until she found her lipstick and compact mirror.

Once she was done she stepped back to admire her handiwork as she smacked her lips together. She cleaned up nice, her mother would be so proud to see her all dolled up for a guy. A guy with an Aston Martin. Gabriella went to the window one last time and looked down at the car outside the bakery.

She took a moment and wondered. Wondered if a guy like Troy would ever really fall for a small-town baker like her. She wasn't as beautiful as some of the women she saw at her mother's social elite events. She didn't have the right clothes or know the right things to say. She hoped she didn't embarrass him tonight.

"Let's do this," she said out loud to herself. With a small clutch in hand, Gabriella headed downstairs, rounded the corner, and stopped in her tracks. Taylor leaned lazily against the counter next to the cash register while Troy had his back turned to her, working diligently on an electrical outlet on the opposite wall. That outlet hadn't worked since Gabriella had acquired the place.

He already had the cover off and three wires- a black, a white and a copper one- exposed, hanging loosely from the small square hole in the wall as he set down the broken outlet he picked up another. _Where the hell did he get that?_

"Well, aren't you just handy," Gabriella said stepping down into the bakery. "Funny, I didn't ask you to fix my broken outlet."

Troy let out a huff as he turned around to see her. "Hello to you too, beautiful," he said with a wink.

Gabriella's gaze shifted to Taylor. Tay was grinning her ass off at the verbal exchange. "What?" Taylor asked.

"Did you ask him to fix it?"

"She didn't have to," he said casually. "I noticed the scorch marks on the outside of the outlet last night so before I left the job site today I remembered to pick up a new plug."

"So you steal too?"

Troy laughed, "Is it stealing when I own the company?" he grasped the white wire and wound it around the end of the screwdriver he held making a loop and connected it to the new outlet. "Besides I'm just trying to keep your bakery from burning down. Isn't that what a doting fiancé would do for his electrically ignorant bride-to-be?"

Taylor belted out a laugh, but Gabriella eyed him suspiciously. "You're looking to get another dessert out of this, aren't you?"

His mouth quirked as he finished screwing the outlet cover back on. "Damn straight."

* * *

From head to toe, she looked amazing. Her silky dark hair cascaded down, which suited her best. It was humanly impossible not to image running his fingers through it. The dress, while modest accentuated the curve of her breast. The dip at the neckline went just low enough to hint, but not quite tease, while the fabric clung just right to show off the swing of her hips.

The car ride was quiet. She didn't say anything after leaving the bakery. She seemed deep in thought. Closed off, even, which was good. The more she kept her distance, the easier doing this would be.

He'd almost lost it last night. Even though they were still practically strangers, last night felt comfortable. Like two old friends. Or more accurately, two new lovers who had been friends for years. He wanted to kiss her. Kept itching to touch her even if it was just to pluck some lint from her hair.

"Are you okay?"

"I've never been in a car like this?"

Troy felt his lips pull up into a small grin. Truthful he was showing off just a little bit. He was always more comfortable driving his truck, but for some reason, he wanted to impress her. "I figured we should arrive in style tonight."

She smiled as she fidgeted with the hem of her dress.

"Penny for your thoughts," he said coming to a stop at a red light.

"You're very hard to read. I mean, one minute you're driving a pickup truck, wearing flannel and shoveling five cupcakes into your mouth. Tonight, you're different. You seem very…scary."

He laughed. "I scare you?"

"I mean, on a personal level? No. But in the sense that you could probably make me disappear without a trace if you wanted to? Yeah, a little. Rich people are dangerous. They're basically unstoppable."

Troy laughed again. "That's just ridiculous."

"No, it's not. It happens. People go missing all the time."

"You're a little crazy, you know that don't you? Beautiful but crazy."

Gabriella placed her hands on her lap, visibly relaxing. "You dress up nice yourself." She was grinning, but there was a genuine appreciation behind her voice.

"Thanks."

When they got there Troy handed his keys to the valet and paced a hand gently on the small of Gabriella's back for guidance. It was a pretty nice venue. Nothing special, but he could tell from Gabriella's expression that she'd never dreamed of setting foot in a place like this. It positively dripped wealth and excess, without being outright tacky. Almost just like Marissa herself.

They breezed through introductions predictably. No sign of the couple in question just yet but he immediately noticed Christian running around one of the fountains.

"Everyone's staring at me," she murmured, as they made their way around the room.

"Because you're gorgeous."

She laughed softly. "I'm sure that's not why. They think I'm a gold-digger."

Troy hand wrapped around her waist a little more and he pulled her closer. "They're not thinking about anything except the way you look in that dress,' he said heatedly. "Trust me."

Her little giggle warmed something inside his chest. "Even the women?"

"Jealous." He said glancing down at her lips. He wanted to kiss her. A moment later, he realized he could. Should, even.

But he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"There's my best man!" His father's voice boomed through the crowd and like a parting of the sea he emerged with his arms extended.

"Hey dad," Troy said greeting his father with a hug.

"Who is this delightful woman?" His father turned his attention to Gabriella. "You're not introducing me to wife number seven already, are you?"

A pinch of jealous wormed its way into Troy's chest as he watched Gabriella's cheeks blush red. "This one belongs to me, old man. Her name is Gabriella, she owners a bakery in town. She's my date. Gabriella this is my father, Jack."

"A baker huh?" His father rubbed his stomach a little as she pondered. "Tell me dear, do you make wedding cakes?"

Gabriella's eyes widen before darting over to Troy as if seeking approval.

"She makes the best wedding cakes," Troy winked. "I'm sure if you ask her nicely she'll set up a tasting for you and Marissa later this week."

"That would be delightful, plus it would really get her off my back. She thinks I haven't been doing my fair share of the planning."

"I would love to design your wedding cake, Mr. Bolton."

"Oh please, call me Jack. You're practically family. Tell me sweetheart, is my son being good to you?"

"Yes…Jack, your son's been a gentleman." Gabriella nodded her eyes darted over towards Troy and he smiled in gratitude.

"Good to hear," Jack reach over a hand and clapped Troy on the back. "See, didn't I tell you the company of a woman would lift your spirits."

"Yup," Troy hated his that his father was right. Being around Gabriella lately had made a difference in his mood. He needed someone like her in his life. The perfect balance to his other side. The side that wanted to get his hands dirty, work with the crew instead of behind his desk, the side that loved his beat-up pickup truck more than his Aston.

She'd be the kind of woman he could see himself spending long weekends with, coming home to after those long evenings in the office. Someone who would be satisfied with coffee and pancakes in bed. Naked, of course, because there was no way he'd ever let her sleep with clothes on.

He shook his head. He couldn't keep thinking like that. The last thing he needed was to trade his obsession with Sharpay for a new obsession with a woman he would likely never see again after all of this was done.

But why wouldn't he? He liked her.

Like a boot, to the ass, his memory rushed back. Because her family going to hate your guts when he was through. Because on some sadistic impulse he told everyone they were engaged and he needed to get her out of this crazy situation.

He instantly hated the idea of never seeing her again.

 _God damn it, Troy. Get a grip._

"Are you alright?" Gabriella asked placing a hand on his chest tenderly as she stepped closer to him. His father had walked off raising his hands in welcome of another guest who had attended this evening. He had barely noticed the last few moments pass.

"I'm great," he said taking her hand from his chest and placing a reassuring kiss on the back of it for measure.

Dear God, she even smelled like a freshly baked vanilla cupcake.

"Your father seems really nice," Gabriella smiled as she politely removed her hands from his. "I like him."

"Be careful," Troy said playfully with an arched brow. "I know five other women who liked him and thought he seemed nice."

"Well, the old theory was to marry an older man because they're more mature. But the new theory is: men don't mature. Marry younger, the sex is better."

His dick twitched. _Damn it_. "Where have you been all my life?" Troy chuckled.

"Around," she smiled with a playful shrug.

Troy wet his suddenly dry lips. Chemistry. It's purely elemental, something that just happens. You can't fake it, can't force it, can't do anything except stand back and watch. They had it.

"Troy!" another voice sounded and he shifted gears pulling Gabriella closer and introducing her to the next party guest.

Oddly enough, Gabriella didn't stay glued to his side the entire night. She started talking to people, and at times, they drifted far enough apart that he lost track of her. Leaving him vulnerable to the possibility of running into her.

"Hey," the familiar voice said from behind him. His eyes shut immediately as his entire body went ridged.

 _Shit._

"Hello Sharpay," he turned around to face her. She looked stunning. That was no surprise, really, Sharpay never let herself look anything but stunning. But this was different. Now she'd gained confidence, she truly looked like someone who belonged in this world. Happy too.

And that hurt.

"I was surprised to get an invite," she said with a small smile, her hazel eyes assessing, penetrating, curious and hating, not necessarily in that order. If he had a talent for photography, he would capture a close-up of those eyes. They looked like a NASA picture of a nebula that exploded millions of years ago.

"You're family. That's never going to change." Of course, she got an invite. She'd been one of Marissa's closes friends before the divorce.

"I saw the building on 59th street, it's gorgeous."

"Thank you," he lifted the drink in his hand for a long sip.

"Is that your date?" she said with curiosity as she motioned behind him.

Troy followed her gaze. Landing on Gabriella as she stood within a group of older women. She was listening to one of them intently, her smile growing. She shifted her weight and Troy eyes shifted downwards to her legs. She had a great pair of legs. Her concern about her weight was ridiculous. Yes, she had curves but that didn't mean she was overweight. He would love the opportunity to show her just how delicious he thought she was.

"She must be something special," Sharpay chuckled.

"Yes," Troy said tearing his eyes away.

"She's cute," Sharpay said with a smirk. "Your father must adore her."

Troy smiled. "He liked you too."

At that she laughed, "please, he hated me."

Troy shrugged. She was right after all. For whatever reason, the two didn't mix well. She thought his father was a male whore and he thought she had a stick up her ass. To be fair, neither was exactly wrong about the other. "Hopefully your soon to be in-laws adore you."

"They do." She said standing a little straighter. "What about you? Meet the parents yet?"

"Next weekend actually."

"Smart move," Sharpay crossed her arms over her chest. "Wooing her with your family first. Classic Bolton power move."

"It's not a move, she wanted to come tonight."

"Oh, I'm sure."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Sharpay shifted her shoulder in a half shrug. "Old habits die hard."

He hated her condensing tone. Hated that she blamed him for throwing his power around. It was a reminder. He didn't care about her anymore. The Sharpay he loved as a concept was long gone, and he knew that. He was finished mourning her. It led nowhere and accomplished nothing. Why bother? Why waste the energy? It was like loving a ghost.

"Well good luck next weekend. Who knows, maybe she'll still be around for the wedding." Sharpay let out a satisfied sigh as she disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

She hadn't even noticed him when he came up from behind her. "Maybe we should go out on the dance floor and show them how it's done." His voices whispered into her ear. And his whisper made her shutter.

"I'm not really a great dancer," Gabriella said staring out at all the couples already on the dance floor. "I'd probably make a fool of us."

He came to her side and offered his hand. "If you can walk, then you can two-step. I'll teach you," he said coaxing her out to the floor.

Reluctantly Gabriella took his hand and let him pull her onto the crowded dance floor. He settled her left hand on his right shoulder and wrapped his free hand around her waist.

She stiffened.

"Relax," he said offering her a comforting smile. "This is supposed to be fun."

Gabriella nodded hesitantly, and when he moved towards her, she danced backward to the beat of the music. At first, she stumbled to keep up. She bit her bottom lip and tried to concentrate intently on her foot placement.

He pulled her closer, forcing her to look over his shoulder instead of down at her feet. Then he lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered, "Quick, quick, slow. Slow."

She improved instantly, and her movements lined up with his, matching the pace he'd set to the music as they glided across the dance floor.

"And you told me you weren't a good dancer," he said quietly.

Gabriella shifted so she was looking up at him. "I'm not."

Troy placed a hand on her hip and pushed her out, spun her around twice, and pulled her back to him in one smooth motion. "Looks like you're doing an outstanding job to me."

"It's you," she said, looking him square in the eyes. He was watching her with a heavy-lidded gaze that stole her breath. "Y-you make me look good."

"I don't know about that," he said, his eyes dropped lower. "Do you know that you smell like a vanilla cupcake?"

She felt a small blush on her cheeks. "I dab a little vanilla extract behind my ears. The smell keeps me grounded. Like I'm always near my kitchen not far from taking a fresh batch out of the oven."

He groaned and pulled her closer leaning down he pressed his lips firmly against hers and kissed her.

She stiffened instantly, her hand clutched at his shoulder. But as his mouth moved against hers, inviting her to participate, she relaxed her grip and allowed the tension in her body to melt away. The moment his tongue touched hers, desire blazed through her, and a soft moan sounded from her throat. The man tasted as hot as whiskey and sweet like a drop of honey with cinnamon. She would never get enough of him.

His arms banded tighter around her, pulling her closer as they fed this insatiable craving they had for each other. The warmth of his hot body permeated her clothes, seared her skin, and heated her blood. A pleasurable ache hit her low and deep.

 _Whoa! What the hell are you doing? This isn't real._

But she ignored the nagging voice inside her head. She wanted Troy. Badly. Probably more than anything she'd ever wanted in her life. And she wasn't about to put a stop to anything involving his lips on hers.

He pulled away slowly, inhaling a deep breath as he went. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

She felt her cheeks begin to glow a vibrant shade of red. Her eyes did a quick sweep of the room. "That was…subtle."

"Got to make it look convincing." He cleared his throat, pulling her a little more off to the side so that they could speak privately. "Are you tired of all these people yet?"

"No," she insisted, taking the opportunity to draw little circles on the palm of his hand with her finger. "But I could stand to go home, though."

"That's probably for the best." He said a little out of breath, "Are you hungry?"

"I could eat," she said quietly. She also didn't want the night to end just yet either.

"How does a pizza sound? Your place this time?"

"My place," her eyes widen a bit.

"Yes," he said with a small smile. "I want to see your place."

* * *

Gabriella opened the door to her apartment over the bakery. Her hand flipping the lights on to reveal her studio apartment. "Remember I told you it was small."

She rushed towards the bathroom door where her bras hung from the doorknob. She quickly plucked them free and tossed them into her shower pulling the curtain closed.

Troy let out a laugh as he followed her inside. "It's perfectly fine," he said closing the door behind them. "I really don't mind."

Gabriella felt another blush. She blushed around him all the time. She couldn't help it. "Well," she said coming to stand in the middle of the room. "There's the kitchen, over there is the bathroom, this," she motioned to a small table with two chairs. "is where I brave most of my bills, taxes and tv dinners."

Troy smiled, his presence in her apartment growing by the second. She watched as he took it all in. A boy like smile coming over his features. "When do we order pizza? My treat."

"I'll order it now," she said walking towards her small refrigerator and plucking a menu from underneath a magnet. "What do you like on yours?"

"Anything. Well, except pineapples and anchovies. And olives."

Gabriella cracked a smile. "Do you have anything against sausage and bell peppers?"

"Nope." He walked over to her bed. He stood there looking at her rumbled sheet before letting his eyes wander to the explosion of her closet.

"Shit." Gabriella quickly ran over shoving her clothes into the closet with her feet and then pulling the sliding door shut. Hiding her earlier wardrobe situation behind her. "Sorry about that."

Troy laughed, "You're messy. It's endearing."

"That's not how my mother tells it," Gabriella dialed the number to the restaurant and placed the order. Suddenly very aware of his eyes she shifted uncomfortably as she rattled off her address. When she finished she hung up and placed her phone on the table.

She watched as Troy removed his jacket and tossed it to the side, letting it rest on her bed. What an image, a man's dress jacket lying on her rumpled green bedsheets. If her mother knew she let him see her apartment like this, she'd likely have a heart attack.

They stared at each other in silence, as if measuring each other's comfort level.

"Tell me," he said beginning to roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt and expose his forearms. "What do you do in your downtime?"

Watching his arms flex beneath the fabric of his shirt was giving her other ideas for downtime. Seriously the man could end wars simply by adjusting his sleeves. _At least the wars between women._

"I read," she motioned to a small stack of books piled in the corner of her apartment. She read trashy romance novels about men like him. Men who were entitled, successful and good looking. Men who made women like her fall in love with them.

Troy nodded as he glanced around her tiny apartment. Usually, the place felt cozy, something about his particular presence made the room feel crowded. After a moment of repeated silence, he let out a sigh. "Come here," he held out his hand to her.

Gabriella felt the cold sweat of panic break out all over her body. He was inviting her to him. _For what?_ Hesitantly she stepped forward, closing the space between them. Her hand slipped into his with ease and he tugged her gently to him.

She felt the sudden warmth of him invade her bones. How could he do that, even with their clothes between them? How could he scorch her skin by barely touching it? Was this always there? That day at the coffee shop? Had her fingers flinched from the spark when she handed him his coffee?

She couldn't remember.

Her heart beat triple time as Troy leaned even closer, eyes on her. She jerked slightly at the feel of his hand on her jaw. She struggled for breath as it slid to her cheek, fingers finally coming to rest at the base of her neck. Ducking, he placed a lingering kiss on the spot right below her ear. The move made her hand shoot out to grip his shirt. Troy laughed silently, little puffs of air hitting her neck as she shivered.

"You know, Gabriella, you can't jump every time I touch you. What will people think?" She could hear the grin in his voice.

"I'm sorry," she said a little breathless.

Troy let out a sigh as he pulled away "We'll just have to work on that."

 _Wait. What?_

"Do you know that song Dust to Dust by The Civil Wars?"

"I don't think so," she shook her head.

"Kick your shoes off." He bent down coming to his knees on the floor and then shifting so he was sitting down comfortably. He motioned for her to join him as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

The muted glow of nearby streetlight filtered through her cream-colored curtains, the evening breeze came in from the street and she physically told herself to relax _. If only it were that easy._ She shifted from side to side to remove her shoes tossing them off to the side before sinking down onto her beat up hardwood floors.

"Give me your foot," he said putting his phone down between them and reaching for her. She didn't protest as his big warm hands wrapped around her foot. His touch stirring things inside her as his hands begun to work out her muscles.

Another breeze from the window and she felt herself relax. Her shoulders loosened as rolled her neck. Honestly, what did she think was going to happen between them. Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned back on the palms of her hands. "A girl could get used to this."

"I'm counting on it."

Gabriella opened her eyes and watched his hands as they magically eased the entire day from her feet. "How are we going to tell my parents we met?"

Troy shrugged, "The truth. You thought I was your blind date." Leaning forward, he looked at her searchingly. "Whatever happened to that guy?"

Gabriella tossed her hair back. "He was nothing like what I expected."

"And what were you expecting?" Troy asked.

 _You._ The answer surfaced quietly. For a moment, she wasn't sure if she had spoken it or not. When she glanced back at Troy, he was still waiting for a response. "I expected someone more romantic, someone kind and generous, someone, who would…I don't know I just wanted someone who could sweep me off my feet."

"I meant it when I said you were interesting and beautiful."

Gabriella rolled her eyes. "Liars can't be trusted."

Troy smiled, "Okay so maybe I didn't give you the best first impression."

"Or a second."

Troy raised an eyebrow. "Third times are supposed to be the charm."

She let out a soft, playful laugh, "Who are you?"

Troy smiled, "Your fiancé actually."

Gabriella pulled her foot away. " _Because_ you lied." She smiled.

This time Troy rolled his eyes. "Now you're just dwelling on the details."

Gabriella chuckled to herself as he pulled her foot back into his lap. They were quiet again as they listened to the music streaming from his phone.

"What kind of music do you like?" he asked quietly.

"I'm a sucker for the eighties," she grinned. "I like listening to the classics you know, Amy Grant, Paula Abdul, Bruce Springsteen, Starship."

Troy shifted as he made himself more comfortable his hands inching up a little and messaging her lower calf. "Somehow, I didn't expect that."

Gabriella let out a huff, "and what did _you_ expect?"

His hand wrapped around her foot again, his grip gently tightening and rotating. "I'm not sure, but not that."

Gabriella let out a soft moan, "you're really good at that."

"Thank you. It's the least I can do after tonight."

"Oh please, your family isn't exactly horrible. And the appetizers were delicious." Gabriella shrugged her shoulders, "In fact, meeting my family is going to be a lot more excruciating after having experienced all your family bliss."

"Ha," he spit out. "My family is crazy."

"Everyone says that," Gabriella countered. "I think your family seems really nice."

"Yeah, that's what they want you to think," Troy paused for a moment picking up his phone and swiping a few times. "My family can be secretly intimidating before you even know what you're doing, you're trapped."

"Really, I hadn't noticed?" she said with a small smirk.

At that, his hands stopped and his blue eyes shifted from his phone to her. "Funny." He went back to the task at hand, putting on a slow 80's song.

"I mean, I haven't met your mom yet, but the men in your family certainly have a way about them."

"Is that right?"

"Yes," Gabriella playfully pretended to think. "The term caveman comes to mind."

Instantly she was yanked towards him, her bottom gliding across the hardwood floor and bringing her closer to him. Without a word, he came forward, his body hovering over hers. Then he kissed her. "Like that?"

Gabriella laughed against his lips as they brushed against hers. "Yeah, like that."

"Good." Then he kissed her again. This time, his tongue dipped inside, making a shallow sweep of her mouth. When her tongue met his head on, he groaned and pulled her tighter against him. What started out as a simple kiss quickly changed into a passionate tangling of tongues.

Her dress was shifting higher and higher into her lap and one of his hands rested on her bare thigh. There was a warmth inside her that was beginning to burn hot. Her pulse raced as her heart pounded against her lungs, beating the breath right out of them.

Troy stiffened, then tore himself away from her. _Damn it._

"Wha-"

"Pizza," he grunted pointing across the room.

Gabriella followed his finger to find her phone vibrating on the table. "Shit," she raced to her feet and scrambled to answer it. "Hello, Yes, yes we ordered a pizza…Okay, we'll be right down."

"I'll get it," Troy murmured as he made his way to the door.

Gabriella hung up the phone and nodded, watching as he disappeared down the stairs leading to the bakery. Her hands flew up into her hair as she let out a long breath. _Shit_.


	5. Chapter 5

Troy had sixteen guys working the job today, they were all paired up in two's as they tried to get the last of the sheetrock up for the weekend crew. At this rate, the project would be completed a week earlier than expected. That meant one happy customer.

Chad Danforth his foreman, adjusted his hard hat. "So, I went to pick up those permits we needed for the dumpster."

"Good."

"Lady behind the counter was awfully nice."

Troy smiled, "Is that right?"

"Yeah," Chad shifted around some of the access drywall from a small pile with his foot. "Whole office was buzzing about some kind celebration." Chad shrugged. "Seemed like big news."

A moment passed and Troy looked up to find Chad staring at him expectedly.

"What?"

Chad narrowed his eyes. "There's nothing you want to tell me?"

"About?"

Chad let out a short laugh, "about that cupcake girl you've been hanging around with. You've been at that bakery almost every day this week. Don't get me wrong, I'm not loving the abundance of sweets, but three of my guys are cupcake away from diabetes. What gives?"

Troy shrugged his shoulders. "It's not a crime to get treats for the crew.

Chad Danforth his foreman, adjusted his hard hat. "What's the story?"

Troy shook his head. "There is no story. I just like her."

"That's not what I hear from my buddy down at the city. From what I hear you're engaged."

Troy pulled off his gloves and tucked them into his back pocket. "Yeah, about that."

Chad chuckled, "Yeah, about that."

Troy let out a breath, "Listen, I need you to keep that quiet for now. I wouldn't want to mess things up with my dad's wedding."

"Are you kidding me?" Chad's arms flew up in disbelief, "What the hell is going on?"

"Keep your voice down."

"What happened?" Chad asked this time more quietly.

"It just happened. She was in a tough spot," Troy shrugged as he walked over to the next slab of drywall. "I may have said something I shouldn't have."

"No." Chad let out a breath. "Saying something you shouldn't have is like accidentally congratulating a fat woman on her pregnancy. Proposing marriage? That's some shit you either say or you don't. There is no, whoops when it comes to that."

Troy made a face. "Guess you had to be there."

"Are sleeping with her?" Chad narrowed his eyes. "Help me understand. Is there crack in the cupcakes? Are you high _right_ now?"

"We're not sleeping together. And I'll get back to you on the cupcakes." Troy motioned towards the other slab of drywall. "Help me get this rock up will you."

"I'm calling bullshit. Unless your suddenly gay, I'm calling bullshit."

"Think whatever you want," Troy said waving his friend off. "You're going to anyway."

Suddenly there was an eruption of catcalls and whistles on site. Both Chad and Troy made a face as they lifted the slab.

"Now what?" Troy said as they put the drywall into position.

That was when he saw her. Gabriella stood there smiling, wearing a low-cut black tank top and a pair of dark-wash jeans that clutched at her hips, her arms were filled with a white bakery box, and a man's red flannel, his red flannel.

"They're chocolate," she said lifting the lid off the box and flashing them with the dozen cupcakes she brought with her. "Got a dozen more in my car, the usual order." She said with a nervous grin.

Troy blinked at her impressive display of cleavage. "Um…yeah."

Chad took a step forward. "Nice to meet you, I've heard so much about you. Gabriella, is it?"

"Right, I'm sorry and you are?"

"Chad Danforth, foreman. I'm in charge when he isn't," he said waving back at Troy.

"Right," as if suddenly springing to life, Troy lurched forward. "I'll show you where our trailer is, we can set them out in the break area."

"Sounds good."

Troy began leading her in the direction of the trailer his hand passively at the small of her back as they walked. "You know, I don't mind picking up my order, you didn't have to go out of your way."

"Sorry about putting you on the spot at work," she said quietly. "My mother was driving me nuts at the shop, asking me about flowers and color themes. She had a whole book with her of color swatches. I had to get out of there."

Troy got the door to the trailer for her, "Dressed like that, feel free to put me on the spot anytime."

Gabriella's cheeks redden as she walked passed him and inside. He loved making her blush. "I spent half the morning convincing her I wasn't pregnant. I think she believes the only way someone like you would marry someone like me is if you knocked me up."

"Someone like me?" Where did she get these ideas, "I'm not royalty you know that, right?"

"You might as well be."

"I'm not," Troy took the box from her and placed it on the table. "I'm just a regular guy."

"Right, and regular guys all drive Aston Martins."

Troy opened the box of cupcakes and shook his head. "Details."

"Well, I hope you're ready to face the monster you created. My mother is dying to have a sit down with you to go over the guest list."

"I'm sure," Troy picked up a cupcake and stared, trying to find something wrong with it, but he couldn't. The black cake was springy to the touch and smelled decadent and rich. Mahogany brown frosting swirled into a beautiful peak, topped with pieces of shaved and curled chocolate.

The goddamn cupcake was perfect and exactly what he wanted.

 _Like Gabriella._

The thought had popped into his head faster than he could push it out. He wasn't ready for another relationship. Troy needed to get his head on straight. All the wedding talk was beginning to make him stupid.

Yes, he liked her. And yes, given the chance he'd love to put his hands around her waist from behind and slowly bring his hands up over her chest until he held one glorious breast in each hand. He wanted her. He ached for it. Thoughts of last weekend's innocent foot rub turning into a make-out session ran through his mind. But that was lust, not love. That was more about the fact that he hadn't had sex in two years than him wanting another woman in his life.

"I'm worried about tomorrow," she said looking up at him with her chestnut eyes.

"Everything is going to be fine." Troy doubted he'd have any problems convincing her family he was Gabriella's fiancé. Hell, he couldn't convince Chad they weren't together, and they weren't even pretending to be engaged on his side of things.

"My family isn't like yours," she said while licking icing off her fingers. First one, then another, sliding her tongue over each one before inserting them into her mouth.

Something tugged painfully in his groin as his cock pulsed and hardened against the inside seam of his jeans. Troy wanted to slip those delicate fingers of hers into his mouth and suck the icing off, right before he pulled her into his lap…

"What's our game plan? How are we going to break up?"

He took a long breath before walking over to his desk, his cupcake still in hand. He leaned against it, needing the space between them. "Just leave it up to me, I'll make sure by the end of the trip they'll be begging you not to marry me."

Gabriella was quiet for a moment as she watched him. "You're going to make them hate you?"

Troy took a bite of his cupcake and let out a deep moan as the chocolate practically melted in his mouth. "You said there's another dozen in your car?"

For a second, an amused grin played on her mouth, but then it changed to a grim line. "How are you going to make them hate you?"

"I'm just not going to give them a reason to like me. Then they'll beg for you to break up with me, and you won't ever have to tell them the truth."

"But I will have to cope with the fact that they think the man I'm in love with is an asshole." She placed a hand on her hip and shifted her weight. "I don't think that's fair, I was nice to your family. Your dad loved me. I'm making his wedding cake."

Troy shoved the rest of the cupcake into his mouth as he watched her stare him down. "It's our best option."

She frowned. "For the record, I don't like it."

Just then there was a knock at the trailer door. "Come in," Troy shouted.

When the door opened Chad walked in. "Are we allowed to eat those yet," he pointed towards the cupcakes.

"Yes," Gabriella said letting her shoulders relax. "Let me just get the other box from my car." She passed by him on her way out of the trailer.

The moment she was out of hearing range Chad closed the space between them. "Nothing going on, huh? I saw the way you were eyeing her goods…and I'm not talking about the ones inside the box."

Troy shook his head in denial. "I'm not the only one who looked at her chest, asshole. And just because I'm not blind doesn't mean I'm sleeping with her."

"Bull shit."

"She's just a friend."

"Friend my ass."

The trailer door opened again and she came in with another box. "Oh, by the way, Troy, you left your shirt at my place last night," Gabriella said with a smile. "I washed it for you."

Chad turned to face him his eyes narrowed.

"Thanks," Troy said with a grimace.

She set the box down and looked up at the two men. "It was nice seeing you again, Chad."

"You too," he said with a polite smile. "You let me know if this one gives you any trouble. I'll kick his ass."

Gabriella let out a laugh, "I might take you up on that." She waved goodbye and headed out of the trailer for the last time and Troy resisted the urge to follow her.

"The woman walks in with your clothes, showing off her goodies, and handing out her sweets like it's Halloween, yet you're still going to pretend nothing's happening. Un-fucking-believable."

"I hardly believe it myself," Troy said crossing his arms.

* * *

The aroma of fresh-baked cinnamon raisin bread and vanilla-scented sugar glaze smacked her in the face. It was their top-selling item, and already there was a line of customers waiting in the bakery.

"Earth to Gabriella," Taylor nudged as she passed by with an empty tray. "We're a little swamped now if you haven't noticed."

"Sorry," she said lifting the next tray and beginning to walk out into the bakery.

"I'm only cutting you some slack because of Mr. Hottie." Taylor teased as she followed behind her with empty bakery boxes.

Gabriella rolled her eyes, "Can we stop calling him that."

"And what would you like me to call him, Mr. Stud Muffin, Mr. Fix-it, or Mr. Sexy Kisser," she laughed at the last part.

Gabriella felt her cheeks glowing bright red as she opened the display case and slid the new tray in. "I can't believe I confided in you."

Taylor laughed as she continued filling the last few orders while Gabriella restocked the display case with parchment-lined metal trays of apple fritters, custard-filled doughnuts, and maple glazed cinnamon twists.

Once the last morning rush customer left the bakery Gabriella's body leaned against the counter in exhaustion. "My feet are killing me."

Taylor blew out a breath and wiped the last of the powdered sugar from the countertop. "Have you ever considered hiring more people?"

"I can barely afford to pay you."

"I'd gladly offer half of my cut if it meant taking on just a part-timer."

The bell rang over the door and they both turned to watch Troy step through wearing one of his flannels and pair of snug jeans. His pickup truck was parked outside and Gabriella let out a sigh of relief. She preferred his pickup truck, she'd been secretly nervous about which Troy was going to show up today.

The Aston Martin or the Pickup.

"Ready to go?" he said with a warm smile.

 _No._ She let out a sigh and looked back at Taylor. "We'll talk more about that when I get back, you sure you can handle the rest of the day solo?"

"I got this. Go have fun with your hot Mr. Fix it."

Her cheeks burned and she looked over at Troy who was grinning with amusement. She hung up her apron and went upstairs to get her things.

Two hours later Gabriella gestured to the driveway up ahead. "Slow down. You're going to take a right up here."

They pulled in, following the path up to a large beach house that sat high on a hill. The view of the beach behind it like a painting. She loved her grandparent's beach house. Her parent's black BMW was parked out front and Troy pulled up behind it.

As soon as they were parked Troy reached his hand over to hers taking one of her hands in his. "Nervous?"

"Aren't you?"

"Not really, is there a reason I should be?"

"Well," she started looking up at the house. "Since we're about to spend the weekend lying to my family about how much in love we are, and they're probably not going to buy it, I'd say yes."

"Anyone ever tells you, you worry too much?"

"Have they ever told you, you don't worry enough?"

Troy shrugged. "I usually just pay someone else to do my dirty work."

After a moment, she realized he was kidding. Gabriella's eyes widen as she let out a long breath. "I can't believe we're doing this."

"Everything will be fine," Troy removed his hand and climbing out of the truck. "Just play along with everything I say or do."

"Yeah, that's the part that has me worried." She said pushing her door open. Once she was standing beside the truck she looked out over the water, the breeze rustled her hair a bit and she let out a sigh. This was heaven. So peaceful, so quiet, the calm before the storm.

Troy had her bag in one hand and his over his shoulder. "Come on," he said taking her hand in his.

"I just…need a minute."

"No, what you need is a drink. Look the quicker we go inside the faster this will all be over." When she didn't respond Troy lifted her chin with his finger and smiled. "It's going to be fun. I promise."

Gabriella frowned. "Easy for you to say. It isn't _your_ family we're about to screw with."

Troy laughed as he pulled her close and placed a small kiss on her forehead.

"Hey, the lovebirds are here!" her grandmother's voice shouted. "Come on up, dinner just about ready. I'll go wake up your grandfather."

Gabriella looked over Troy's shoulder to see her grandmother standing out on the porch. "I can't do this," she whispered.

"Too late," Troy responded as he turned around and waved.

They made their way towards the house. The old, dry wooden stairs creaked and bowed under their feet as they climbed each step, leading them to the large, sun faded upper deck. From there Gabriella spotted the ocean sparkling under the late afternoon sun. it was immeasurable stretching out as far as her eyes could see. The warm breeze coming off the water wafted over her face, leaving behind the salty residue she could taste on her lips.

"Oh, good you made it! and you brought Troy with you." Her mother came out on to the porch, shattering the last bit of peace she'd experience this weekend.

Gabriella arched her brow. "Mom, you knew we were coming. You invited us, remember?"

"Yes, but after you left the other day at the bakery when I mentioned color schemes, I thought maybe there was a problem, and perhaps things wouldn't work out after all. It's not like it would be the first time you-"

"Maria, it's so good to see you again." Troy interrupted. "The house is cute." He grabbed her and pulled her to him, giving her a big awkward hug. Then he punctuated his rudeness by releasing her and stepping through the doorway, not bothering to wait for an invitation. "My mom's house is twice as big. But this is cute, almost like an apartment. Got anything to eat?"

"Oh, um…well, dinner _is_ almost done." Her mother stuttered, obviously flustered by his forwardness. She looked up at Gabriella, "Come in, dear. No need to linger in the doorway."

 _Right_. Gabriella hesitantly stepped inside. _If only she knew._

* * *

Troy glanced around the living room, turning his eyes to the décor. Apparently, Gabriella's grandparents loved the beach so much that they'd brought it inside with them.

There were white wicker furniture everywhere and branches of driftwood took up space on the entertainment center, various species of saltwater fish corpses were mounted around the room, and a glass bowl on the coffee table held a small collection of sand, colorful shells and dried-out starfish. It was like an ocean graveyard.

"Lots of dead shit in here," Troy noted. He let his bag fall off his shoulder and placed both bags beside one of the wicker couches.

An older gentleman entered the room, wearing a pair of khaki shorts, a white polo shirt, and a pleasant grin. His eyes were chestnut, like Gabriella's. "Hi, I'm Gabi's father, Luis."

Troy shook the man's hand in a strong grip. "I'm Troy. Nice to meet you."

"And you," Luis pointed a finger at Gabriella. "Where have you been? What kind of daughter doesn't let her parents know she's dating someone, much less getting married?"

"Sorry dad," Gabriella offered a nervous smile. "It's been really busy at the shop."

"And what, the phones don't work?" Luis countered shifting his eyes from Troy to Gabriella. "Unless there something wrong with him? You already married or something?" he directed the question to Troy.

"Divorced."

Luis's frown flattened to a grim line. "So there is something wrong with you."

"Daddy!" Gabriella interjected.

"Don't worry Luis, I plan on getting this one knocked up and barefoot ASAP." Troy's hand reached out and smacked her on the ass and she let out a surprised yelp. "Learned that lesson the hard way."

"Troy!" Gabriella turned around facing him with a frown her hand covering the offended area.

"You're so hot when you're angry. Do me a favor, save it for later baby."

Gabriella's mouth dropped open.

"Right," Her mother raised a brow. "I'll just check on dinner and see how much longer it will be."

Unfazed, Luis shifted in Troy direction. "So, Troy, my wife tells me your father gave you the business. Bolton Constructions, is it?"

Troy felt his jaw clench, "My father retired. And yes, I am running the company now."

"Maybe you could do me a favor then. I've been wanting to replace my patio door, but I think I'll need to tear out part of the wall to accommodate the French doors my wife wants to be installed. I wrote down the dimensions and brought a few photos with me if you wouldn't mind?"

"Oh dad, it's Troy's weekend off," Gabriella began. "He didn't come here so you could put him to work."

"That's alright babe, I don't mind looking at something for my future father-in-law. It's not a problem."

Her dad led the way into an office attached to the living room so he followed quickly. He didn't even need to look to know that Gabriella was red-faced and pissed-off. He could feel her gaze on the back of his neck as she followed.

Luis handed him the notepad with a few pictures paper clipped to it. He glanced at them, the glass patio door connected to a large deck overlooking a flower garden. After a moment, he reached for a pen from a Stanford mug from his desk and jotted down some notes and an estimate.

"Here's my bid for the job. If you want it done sooner than next week though, I'll have to add in some overtime for my crew."

Luis blinked at him in surprise. "Wait. You're charging me to remodel the door?"

"Of course I am," Troy said with a firm nod. "It's not like I need the practice."

"But…but we're practically family."

Troy shrugged. "Family or not, I still get paid for the work I do. Well, except the things I do for your daughter. But she pays me in other ways if you know what I mean." He grinned, then raised his brows suggestively. "Besides, Gabriella will vouch for me. I'm damn good at what I do, and satisfaction is always guaranteed." He glanced back at Gabriella and smiled. "Isn't that right, baby?"

Her eyes widen, and she silently mouthed, "Oh. My. God." She ran a hand over her red face and shook her head in disbelief. She was obviously not prepared for him to make sexual remarks about her, especially to her own father. And her dad didn't seem to know how to respond any more than she did.

Troy figured this would be the part where he'd be lectured about his rude comment or possibly thrown out of the house on his ass. At least the whole thing would be quick and over with. What he didn't expect was for Luis to rub at his chin and smile.

"You know, son, I appreciate a man who takes pride in his work and has the confidence to spare. You seem like a bright levelheaded businessman. Tell you what I'll do. Give me ten percent off on the labor, and I'll put in a good word for you with my neighbors who are looking for someone to remodel their pool house."

 _Well, double shit._

Troy reached into his back pocket and took out one of his business cards and shook his hand. "You got a deal. Just give me a call when you're ready to get started."

He heard her clear her throat in an obnoxious, unmistakable _what the hell do you think you're doing_ kind of way. But he ignored it and refused to look in her direction.

"You okay Gabi?" Her dad asked, his eyes filled with concern.

"I, um…Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired from the drive."

"Of course, well. I'll go wash up for dinner and let you get settled."

Her father left the room and Troy fought the urge to follow. She was going to kill him. He put his wallet away and let out a low sigh. "I did not expect to happen."

"Stop acting like an ass hat." She whispered aggressively. "You may get to walk out here and never see them again, but these are my parents. I don't have a choice!"

"You wanted a way out of this mess, didn't you?"

Gabriella shook her head. "Can't I just say you're sleeping with someone else or something?"

"You know what, come to think of it. Your mom is pretty attractive."

Gabriella's mouth fell open and he couldn't hold back a teasing smile.

"I can't believe I was actually starting to like you," she said playfully shoving his shoulder as she went to leave the office.

"So, you _do_ like me?" he said catching her hand before she could make an escape. He lifted his hand up her arm over her shoulder and shifting it through her hair as his warm fingers rested on the back of her neck.

"Troy."

He released her and made a show of tucking his hands into his pockets. "Can't blame a man for trying."

"Oh, I think I can."

Troy's lips pulled into a smile. "We probably should've talked about this sooner, but about these sleeping arrangements…"

"What about them?"

"I'm just wondering if I need to sleep with one eye open."

Gabriella smirked. "After the things, you said in front of my dad, I'd say you might want to at least lock the door so he doesn't castrate you in your sleep."

"Actually, I was more worried about you."

"Me?"

"Well, yeah. If we're going to be sleeping together…"

Gabriella blinked as she stared at him. The red coming in on her cheeks. "W-what are you talking about? Why would we be sleeping together?"

His eyes narrowed. "When your mom mentioned hooking you up with Jason Cross during the reception, she said you would have a roommate. I guess I just assumed she meant-"

"Ew, why would you assume that. I'm not a door prize. I wouldn't just share a room with a stranger"

"No, of course not. I just-"

"My mom was referring to my brother, Matthew."

"You're going to sleep with your brother? I can't say that's any better."

"We normally have our own rooms when we come to visit, but since we have an extra guest, we'll have to change it up. You can have my room, and I'll just sleep in Matt's room. There are bunk beds in there."

Troy let out a quick breath, "I have no problem rooming with your brother so you can have your own bed."

"Oh, so now _you_ want to sleep with my brother?"

Troy made a face, "it's the proper thing to do."

Gabriella's smile softened and she shifted closer, her hands reaching up and adjusting his collar. He liked the way she touched him. No matter how faint the touch he always welcomed it. The vanilla fragrance drifted into his nostrils and he had to clench his fist to resist reaching for her.

"Such a gentleman," she murmured. This time when she turned to leave, he let her go. His eyes watching the shape of her rear end as she made her way into the living room.

He hated being a gentleman.

* * *

Her grandmother was standing in the living room waiting for them both when they emerged. She pointed at their bags discarded by one of her wicker chairs. "If you two will grab those and follow me, I'll show you where you'll be sleeping. And I hope you brought your appetite with you, Troy. Dinner will be ready soon, though you have plenty of time to freshen up if you like."

"Sounds good," Troy replied.

Gabriella stepped towards her bags, but Troy snatched both up from the floor before she could grab hers. They started to follow her grandmother to the hallway, but Gabriella's grandfather appeared from the stairs.

"Is that my grandbaby Gabi?"

"Grandpa," Gabriella sighed as she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. He was always so happy to see her and always so loving. He was hands down her favorite person.

"I hear you have a fiancé," he said returning the hug.

Gabriella's stomach pulled into a knot and she let out a hesitant sigh, "Sure do." Turning around she saw Troy standing besides her shifting her bag from one hand to the other so he can offer a handshake. "This is Troy, Troy this is my grandfather."

"Sir,"

"Troy," he said taking his hand and smiling. "You ever had crabs before?"

Troy grinned. "Well, sir, I guess that depends on what kind of crabs we're talking about," he said, giving him a wink.

Gabriella felt the air back up into her lungs as she waited for her grandfather's response. Troy was obviously trying to shock the old man into having a reaction, but he didn't get the one he was probably shooting for. Nor one she expected.

Her grandpa chuckled and offered Troy a friendly slap on the back, "Yep, you'll do. Welcome to the family, son."

Still smiling, Troy continued down the hall behind her Grandmother. Gabriella walked fast and caught up with them just as her grandma swung open the bedroom doors to the room Gabriella had always used.

She loved sleeping in there.

Not only was there a connecting bathroom to the right of the entrance, but the décor was more Gabriella's style. There were some simple touches of beach nostalgia, but the room had more of a homey feel than any other bedroom in the house. Probably had something to do with the antique poster bed and the matching mule chest standing proudly in the corner. Her grandmother had owned both for as long as Gabriella could remember.

Her grandmother smiled. "Here you go. I put fresh sheets on the bed, and there are plenty of clean towels in the bathroom."

"Thank you," Troy said stepping into the room and letting his gaze wander aimlessly around the room, but then his eyes seemed to snag on something. He set their bags down on the old-fashioned quilt covering the bed and ran his hand along the smooth, polished surface of the wood's grain.

"Holy shit, is this tiger maple?" his eyes were wide.

"It is," Gabriella's grandmother said her face brightening. "How did you know?"

"My own grandmother used to have a bookshelf made from this very wood. She wouldn't let us anywhere near it though. Said it was old and expensive."

"Well, that's because it is. But this bed has been in my family for generations, and it was meant to be slept in. Especially by the handsome young man who is marrying my granddaughter. And who knows? If I get a great-grandchild out of you two sometime before I die of old age, I might even gift it to you in my will," she said with a wink.

Gabriella's head snapped to her. "Grandma! You can't rush us into having kids by bribing my fiancé with old bedroom furniture."

"I can if it works."

Gabriella laughed, but Troy didn't. If anything, he looked uncomfortable.

"Well, I'll just take my stuff to Matt's room and get settled."

"Nonsense." Her grandmother shook her head. "I wouldn't dream of separating the two of you. your grandfather and I are not that old-fashioned. Besides, this way, you won't have to sneak back in here later tonight. I know how wild and crazy two young lovers can be."

Gabriella's heart pounded against her ribcage so hard that her teeth felt like they were chattering. "Oh." She said as her grandmother gave her a knowing smile and left them in stunned silence.

Troy brows gathered together as his eyes glanced back at the full-sized bed.

"Um, I had no idea she was going to do that. I'm sorry."

"For?" Troy eyed her as he reached for his bag. "It's beyond either one of us. Might as well just be adults about it. I don't mind sharing a bed with a beautiful woman."

"We're just sleeping," Gabriella clarified.

"Sure, I mean I'm way bigger than you and I'm probably going to take up most of the bed. Chances are you're going to feel like we're sleeping in bunk beds… with you on top."

Liquid heat trickled down her spine and swirled in her abdomen. "I'm building a pillow fort between us."

She could feel him as he watched her reach for her bag and move to the opposite side of the bed.

"I'm totally going to convince you to go out with me when all of this is over."

"Not likely," Gabriella said pulling out her makeup bag and doing her best not to make eye contact with him. "I don't date liars, and after your finished here my parents will hate you, therefore I can never see you again."

"You don't mean that."

"Yes. Yes, I do. This has been one big lie and stomach ache from the start. I can't wait till this is all over."

"We're friends aren't we?"

 _Yeah. Friends._ Gabriella stuffed all of her unwanted feelings for him into an emotional storage compartment and shoved it into the attic of her mind, hoping it would grow dusty and moldy and she'd forget about it one day. "Sure," she muttered, shrugging her shoulder in what she opened looked nonchalant. "Of course we are."

His stance relaxed. "Then how do you feel about being friends with benefits?"

Gabriella froze. _What did he say?_

"Gabriella."

Her eyes came up to meet his. "I…don't think I know what you mean."

He grinned. "Oh, I have a pretty good feeling you do."

He came around the bed coming to stand beside her, she instinctively took a step back, bumping into the nightstand. He couldn't possibly mean…

Troy smiled wickedly as he reached up and pushed some of her hair off her neck. "Well?"

"Well, what?" she asked breathlessly.

He chuckled. "Come on, Gabriella. You can't possibly be this surprised to find out I'm attracted to you."

 _Right._

She shook her head in denial. "Are you kidding?"

His eyes heated as they glanced down her body and back up to her face. "Do I look like I'm kidding?"

No. Actually, he looked like he wanted to eat her. "I…I don't know what to say."

Troy shrugged, "You don't have to say anything. I don't want to push you into doing anything you're not comfortable with. Just think about it, okay? You know how I feel about this. I may not be looking for a serious relationship so soon, but that doesn't stop me from being your friend…or from wanting to fuck you."

Heat pooled in her abdomen blazed up her neck and landed on her cheeks. She tried to remain calm, but other parts of her body were already screaming their acceptance of his offer. "I'll…um, think about it," she said coolly.

"Okay good" he backed off. "No matter the answer, it's not going to affect our friendship any. Just let me know what you decide."

She nodded and let out a slow breath. "Well, that's quite an offer."

"I apologize if it comes off crass," Troy smiled as he picked up his bag and let it fall to the floor. "I just can't seem to help myself when I'm around you," he placed a book on the nightstand.

Gabriella felt a shiver run down her spine and she fought the urge to let it show. She did not want him to know he affected her this way. This was crazy. He disappeared into the bathroom and she leaned over a little to see the book he'd set down. The City of Soul Chronicles. A smile spread across her lips and she bit down to hide it.


	6. Chapter 6

Friday night dinner at her grandparents' place was easily one of her favorite things about their weekend getaways. Her grandfather unceremoniously dumped the contents of a large pot onto the white butcher paper that covered the picnic table. A mound of steaming hot crab, whole shrimp, spicy sausage, small red potatoes, and half ears of corn tumbled out. Grandma's special Cajun seasoning wafting up into her nostrils and making her mouth water.

Gabriella glanced over at Troy who seemed a little confused. "What? Never been invited to a backyard crab boil before?"

Troy shook his head. "First time for everything."

The screen door pulled open and Matt finally emerged from the house, his cell phone glued to his hand until their grandmother confiscated it.

"Your sister and her fiancé are here. Look up. Say hi, maybe get to know your future brother-in-law," she lectured as she slipped his phone into her back pocket.

Matt rolled his eyes, then gestured over to Gabriella, while chuckling. "Hope you know what you're getting into with this one. I've seen her diary. Practically fell asleep reading it."

"Oh yeah, like you know how to read?" Gabriella rolled her eyes.

"If you call that lame excuse for a diary reading material."

"Mathew, Gabriella. That's enough. We have a guest." Maria scowled.

"Is he though?" Matt took a seat in front of Troy. "I mean if you're going to marry her shouldn't you at least get a heads up on how lame she is."

"This coming from a spoiled brat who still wears what his mommy picks out."

"Takes a spoiled brat to know a spoiled brat."

"That's enough," Luis sat down at the table beside Matt. His eyes looked over at Troy. "Still considering children?"

"They're precious," Troy smirked.

Grandma came by and placed a bucket of mini wooden mallets in front Troy and Gabriella, next was a bowl of lemon wedges. Everyone had broken off into individual buzzes of excitement over the food. Troy sat quietly looking at table nervously.

"You don't have a seafood allergy, do you?"

"Oh no," Troy shook his head, "It's just that I don't see any silverware or plates. I guess…I'm just not sure how we're supposed to eat?"

Gabriella smiled knowingly as she held up her hands and wiggled her fingers. "Use your mallet to break open the shell then let your fingers do the rest."

A grin stretched across his face as if he were a child and the idea of playing with his food delighted him. "Cool."

"So, Troy, how did you get into your father's line of work?"

"I didn't," Troy shrugged. "It was my grandfather actually. He was a general contractor. He used to let me tag along and work as a flunky for the crew. Then one day I was a crew leader, then a job foreman and it just kept going. I even went to school to learn more about the business until I eventually earned a seat by my father's side."

"I'm sure you've made him very proud," Luis said, nodding in his approval.

"He was all too thrilled to retire early and let me take over. He won't admit it, but I know he misses working. He's still trying to find a foothold in his retirement."

"Well, what does your grandfather do now?" Grandpa asked curiously.

"The old man spends most of his time teaching free woodshop classes at a local college. In fact, my Grandmother also does a lot of volunteer work at the children's hospital."

"Your grandparents seem wonderful dear," her grandmother smiled. "What about your mother?"

"She's lives a little bit out of town with her husband Ted, she's college professor at the University of Mississippi."

 _What the fuck?_ Gabriella elbowed him in the ribs. Hard. This was not part of the plan.

Troy coughed and wheezed out, "She actually ran out on me when I was thirteen. She's a selfish woman…that one." His lips twitched, threating to erupt into a smile.

Maria shook her head. "Well, you're father sounds like a smart man. He's done right by you, gave you love, discipline and nurtured your education. It's her loss."

"Yes, I agree." Luis said, "everyone needs something solid to fall back on. Those fancy liberal arts degrees don't matter much these days. I remember when Gabi came to us with the bakery. I think it was a much-needed wake-up call. She switched from English to Business and got her head on straight."

Gabriella smiled and inwardly begged for a change in conversation. Anything then her current Bank of Dad situation. It was great that her father loaned her half the money for her business at a zero percent interest rate, but did he have to bring it up every chance he could.

Her mother did not disappoint.

"Aside from all that, I hear your father is getting remarried this summer. You must be so overwhelmed with wedding preparations. Are you excited to be the best man?"

"It's a lot," Troy admitted. "I'm sure I'll manage."

"Well, I should probably get your father's number from you and give him a call. With a wedding to plan, we have a lot of things to discuss."

Troy didn't hesitate with his answer. "Sorry, Maria. That's not going to happen."

Gabriella sucked in a sharp breath, coughing instantly. Quickly she reached for her glass of water and begun chugging. "Actually, Mom, what he means is-"

"What I mean is…" his warm hand closed over Gabriella's thigh squeezing and rubbing it lightly, though his gaze never left her mom's face. "I haven't shared the news of our engagement with my family. With my father's wedding happening, I don't want to steal his thunder. I would hate for you to ruin the surprise before I have a chance to tell them."

Her mother nodded. "Oh, I see. Well, we definitely wouldn't want that." She smiled at him. "When do you think you'll be able to let them in on the good news?"

"I'm not sure, but as soon as I do, you'll be the first one I call."

Luis laughed as he patted her mother's hand. "A little patience, there's no rush. It's perfectly acceptable to have a long engagement."

* * *

The rest of dinner went great, they talked about her mother's job, about her bothers senior year of high school and he even got to hear a little bit about what Gabriella was like as a child. He had to admit, he enjoyed himself.

It was a real inner struggle at the dinner table. A part of him wanted to impress her parents. Show them he was worth being with someone as amazing as their daughter. Another part was constantly reminding himself that this wasn't real. She didn't want to be with him. She made that abundantly clear despite their mutual attraction.

After a quick search around the house, he discovered that almost everyone had gone to bed. He did find her grandfather sprawled out in front of the television watching some old black and white movie with his eyes closed. He glanced outside onto the patio and smiled. There she was. Bundled up in a patio chair looking out towards the water. A half empty glass of wine in her hands.

They'd both wash up after dinner, she pulled her hair up into a messy bun and changed into a pair of sweatpants. He loved that she wore sweatpants. Sharpay never did. In fact, if it wasn't covered in lace or made of some luscious kind of fabric Sharpay wouldn't even consider it.

"Thinking about coming clean?" he asked coming around and taking the seat beside her.

She heaved out a large breath. "I have to."

"Why? Because you feel guilty?"

"Of course I do. Don't you?"

He shrugged and a little grin tugged at his mouth. "Not particularly."

Gabriella shook her head, "That's because they like you."

"I'm trying." He said quietly. "Trust me, I made my mother seem like a flake because of you. If she were here she'd probably castrate me for that one."

"I'm sorry. I didn't want you to make your mother look bad."

"Too late for that," Troy murmured.

Gabriella lifted her glass and took a sip. "This whole thing has gotten ridiculous. We need to just call it off. They really think I'm in love with you. I can't do this again."

 _Ouch._ Troy let that one sink low in his gut. She was right though, he promised to get her out of this mess and so far, he'd only managed to dig them into a deeper hole. "Again?" he asked quietly.

She looked down at her wine glass. "George." She whispered.

The mention of her boyfriend burned through him. "Your parents like him?"

Gabriella let out a sigh as she lifted her wine glass, "My mother adored him. She practically gave him her blessing to marry me every chance she got. It was embarrassing sometimes, honestly. And I don't think my father ever really cared. It was just supposed to happen, it was just expected. The only thing that couldn't fit into the great design was me. "

"Must have made for great weekends out here huh?"

Gabriella glanced up, twisting her head toward him, seemingly surprised by his unexpected question. "Actually, George's never been here before. I invited him once, but he said he didn't want to spend his weekend sitting around with a bunch of old people so he didn't come."

"God, your ex is a fucking jerk,"

Gabriella smiled. "Tell me about it. My weight used to be a real problem when I was younger. I was chubby, and that's being polite. In high school, I lost a lot of it by playing sports and being active. I should have known he was an ass then when he finally noticed me for the first time in a bikini."

Damn. He really wanted to kick the shit out of that jackass now. "Gabriella, as nice as you are, I can't quite figure out why the hell you were with someone like him. You deserve way better than that."

"Yeah, well, being with a jerk is sometimes better than being alone."

Troy got up from his seat and came over to hers. He took the glass from her hands and placed it off to the side.

"What?"

Troy pulled her up to her feet and took her place chair bringing her down into his lap. Gathering her up so his arms wrapped around her perfectly. Like they'd been born with one purpose, to hold her.

"Troy-"

"You're not alone," he said leaning forward and placed his lips softly against hers. She didn't suddenly stiffen like all the other times before, she didn't pull away from him either. Instead, she relaxed against him, all the tension in her body melting away.

Unfortunately, he couldn't say the same for himself.

With anyone else, it probably would have just been a kind gesture. One human seeking comfort in another. But he hadn't considered the effect she would have on him. And it damn sure wasn't a small one. His arms banded tighter around her, pulling her closer, as he fed his craving. He tasted every inch of her sexy mouth, devouring her erotic saccharine flavor.

A low groan made its way out of his throat and he pulled back only for a moment for air.

"We shouldn't be doing this," she whispered.

"When did it become a crime to make out with my fiancé?" he said, quickly pulling her mouth back to his. Once again, Gabriella went limp in his arms, allowing the renewed tension to evaporate and surrender to the sensations swirling between them. He could take her, right here, right now and probably would have- if they weren't sitting out on her grandparent patio, with her grandfather asleep just inside.

Fuck.

After one final sampling of her lips, Troy relented to his subconscious and tore his mouth from hers. It took a hell of a lot more willpower than he thought it would. His heart beat wildly in his chest, but he sucked in a ragged breath to slow his pulse rate.

"Gabriella?" her grandmother's voice caused them both to still.

He could see her cheeks glow a vibrant shade of red as she lowered her head and looked back at her grandmother. "Hi, Grandma."

"It's getting late," she said with a knowing smile. "Wouldn't want you both catching a cold."

"We'll be right in," Troy called out. His eyes darted up to Gabriella. "Why don't you go in first while I run through a few baseball stats."

When she furrowed her brow, Troy grunted and shifted so the problem was more evident.

"Oh my god," her hands flew up to her mouth and she stifled a laugh.

"Go on," he motioned for her to go and smiled as she nodded and placed a kiss on his cheek before heading inside.

"What about Troy?" her grandmother asked softly.

"He needs a moment,"Gabriella's voice slipped and she let out a small giggle.

Their conversation turned to mumbles as they disappeared inside. Leaving Troy alone looking out onto the water. _Shit._ What the hell was he doing?

"Looks like you could use one of these."

Troy lurched forward, crossing his arms to cover his lap. He looked up to see her grandfather holding out a beer. He glanced back at the screen door, he hadn't even heard it.

"Ah, thanks." He took the offered beer.

Her grandfather cracked open his own beer and took a seat in another chair. "How are you holding up with the soon to be in-laws?"

Troy relaxed a little and pulled the tab back on his own beer. "It's not so bad. I've lived through worst." Sharpay mother was a drunk. Her father just a face at the dinner table almost always hidden behind the paper. Then there were his own parents.

Her grandfather chuckled to himself then took a sip. "I really shouldn't be drinking. Just can't part with the damn stuff." The crinkles by his eyes seemed to smile as he looked down at the can in his hand. "It's not so much the drink but the moments. Nothing more satisfying than a beer with the boys."

Troy couldn't help but smile either, "I know what you mean."

"Just don't tell the wife," he smiled deviously as if for a moment he was getting away with the great crime ever committed rather than just having a drink in his own backyard. "Always gotta keep the wife happy, remember that and you'll do just fine."

"Right," Troy nodded. "Happy wife, happy life."

"Of course, nothing wrong with being happy yourself." The old man paused. "You're happy, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Troy shrugged as he swiped at the condensation on the can with his thumb. "I make a decent living, enjoy the work."

"No," he let out a small laugh, "I know you're loaded, son. I mean with Gabi. Does she make you happy? You see, what you do for a living is only half of it. Do you laugh together? Do you fight a lot about the little things or is it mostly good?"

Troy took a breath as he really contemplated the question. "You know…I have to say it's been mostly good. I mean we've had a few fights-"

"Listen kiddo, even if you're married, your gonna fight. The secret is knowing how to fight. You think it's easy being married? It's hard enough living with your own insecurities, then you throw into the mix a kid or two. Makes you realize you want to be with the person who chooses to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Do you get that feeling with Gabi?"

"Yeah." That was the expected answer anyway, wasn't it?

"Son, what I mean is, can you be yourself around Gabi?" The old man turned to face him.

"I guess if I'm really honest about it," he said quietly. "I feel more myself with her than just about anyone else."

Her grandfather smiled, "That's how you know she's the one."

He was supposed to be putting a bad taste in all their mouths when it came to his relationship with Gabriella. Yet there he was, sharing a beer with his fiancé's grandfather and admitting truths he hadn't expected to come so easily.

 _Fake Fiancé._ Christ, why couldn't he seem to remember that?

* * *

"I don't know," Gabriella said.

She was currently perched on the rim of the bathtub. Her cell phone up to her ear as she whispered back to Taylor. Her eyes looking down at the diamond ring on her finger.

If someone had asked her a week ago if she wanted to have sex with Troy, the answer would have been a resounding and undeniable yes. But once he asked to take their friendship to the next level, she hadn't known if she could go through with it. She almost decided to tell him no. Until he kissed her.

"Of course, I like him." Gabriella let out a sigh as she leaned back against the cold tile wall. "I like him a lot."

"I knew you liked him."

Gabriella let out a small gasp. "So not the time for I told you so."

Taylor laughed. "Then why are you on the phone with me and not in bed with him having incredible sex." Taylor countered.

"He's not here. And there's no guarantee that it would be incredible."

"Oh please," Taylor huffed. "You actually get to sleep with a guy who has like 9% body fat. No, really, you should send God a bottle of wine or something."

Gabriella let out a long breath, her anxious nerves twitched beneath her skin, electrifying her body and her mind. "This situation can't go anywhere else after Sunday. What if he is incredible and I have to let him go because my parents hate him and everyone thinks we broke up?"

"Will you stop trying to please everyone else and go for it!"

"This is a logical problem, everything about this relationship has an end date. This is not going to be the story I tell my future grandkids about how I met their grandfather." Gabriella stood up and examined her appearance in the mirror on the door. Her grey sweatpants she wore weren't attractive at all. And the thin white tank top hugged tight across her chest, the flimsy fabric slipped off her shoulder and she dragged it back up.

"It could be, I mean seriously do you really believe half the shit your grandparents tell you."

"I love their story. It's romantic and beautiful."

"And what is not romantic about a man who meets you for the first time and sends you flowers the next day because he can't stop thinking about you?"

Gabriella couldn't help the pull of her lips.

"Or the part where he rode in on that white pickup the night of George's wedding and helped you deliver the cake, despite you standing him up."

Her smile grew.

"What about the fact that he comes to the bakery every day for lunch, and buys out an entire display case because he likes to see you smile."

"He's buying all that food for his crew because they're doing a fantastic job."

"Right," Taylor made a noise. "And all the repairs around the bakery."

"He likes my cupcakes."

"Wake up!" Taylor laughed. "The man has a serious thing for you. He's pretending to be your fiancé so you won't lose face in front of your family."

Everything inside her suddenly fluttered and with an electric current that made her erupt into a giggle and she brought a hand up to her mouth.

Taylor let out a satisfied sigh. "And you like him."

Gabriella looked back at the mirror, she hadn't brought something else to sleep in. Like a cute teddy, or an old college t-shirt. And even if he got past her cringe-worthy sleep clothes, it wasn't as if she packed her best underwear. She was wearing full briefs. With little tabby kittens on them.

"I'm not even sexy right now," she let out an exasperated sigh. "Why did I pack like this?"

"Because at the time you thought you were going away for a weekend with your parents. Not a romantic getaway." Taylor laughed.

"What am I going to do?"

It was quiet for a moment as she listened for Troy in the bedroom. It had been almost twenty minutes since she left him out on the patio. What was the holdup?

"You said he wears a lot of flannel?" Taylor's voice cut through her thoughts and she instantly began to smile.

"You're a genius."

"You better call me in the morning."

"I will."

"Unless he wants to have morning sex, then do that first," Taylor said in rush.

"Hanging up now." With that she hit the end call button and snuck out into the bedroom, he was still gone.

Quietly she walked over to his bag which he'd left on the floor from earlier. She rummaged through it for a moment before pulling out a green button up shirt with long sleeves. Biting her lip, she glanced back at the bedroom door then at the shirt in her hands. She couldn't believe she was doing this.

She raced back into the bathroom and quickly pulled off her tank top off and pushed down her sweatpants. _Did she have to take off everything?_ She winced at the sight her underwear in the mirror. _Burn them._ She pulled them off and vowed to never wear them again. She shrugged into his shirt and did the buttons up. Then she undid the buttons. Then did them back up halfway.

She reached for the band in her hair and took it out, giving it a good shake. Parts of it were still wet from her shower after dinner. The scent of her shampoo filled the room. She tilted her head as she admired her appearance in the bathroom mirror.

She heard the bedroom door open and shut. Her heart stopped and she squeezed her eyes shut. _Shit_.

* * *

Still on edge from the talk he'd had with her grandfather, Troy cursed under his breath as he shut the bedroom door behind him and seen the empty bed. She must have chosen to go to her brother room for the night. And that was mostly his fault.

He felt like a scumbag for the way he kept tricking her family into believing he was going to be Gabriella's future husband, which would make him a part of their lives for the long haul. As if that wasn't bad enough, then he'd gone and asked Gabriella to have sex with him. Friends with benefits. Jesus. Her grandfather was right about one thing. Gabriella did deserve better. Better than George and better than him, if he were being honest.

She needed a guy who would take a chance on her because she was worth it. Not some chicken shit like Troy who was afraid to get into another relationship because he'd destroyed his marriage.

But the mere thought of her being with someone that wasn't him really pissed him off. God, he was an ass. _I don't want you, but no one else can have you._ How was that for a fucked-up way of thinking?

And it wasn't true. He _did_ want her. He just didn't _want_ to want her. He'd love nothing more than to slide into that bed beside her and just lose himself in her.

But he couldn't do it. He told her he would give her time to think about it and he didn't want to push her for an answer. Maybe he shouldn't go down that road with her at all, but If her answer was yes, he had no doubt in his mind he wouldn't be able to resist her. He hadn't meant for all this to happen, but now that it had, he needed to figure out a way to get her out of his system. And fast.

The bathroom door opened and something inside him relaxed. _She was here._ When she emerged from the bathroom in what looked like nothing but his shirt another part of him felt a primal instinct of pride and possessive ownership. His hand gripped the doorknob behind him like an anchor keeping him in place and not allowing himself to take a step closer. Closer was dangerous. Closer was going to be the last of his resolve.

"Hi," she said, her arms crossing over her chest in a failed attempt to hide. The bottom of his shirt hitched up her thighs and his eyes widen as he zeroed in on her bare thighs. He wanted to crawl up between those amazing legs of hers.

His could feel his knuckles whiten on the doorknob.

"I borrowed your shirt." her dark ravenous hair slid over her shoulder covering part of her face as she looked down at her feet. She was nervous.

 _Say something._ His mind shouted at him to speak _. Say something._

She uncrossed her arms ranked her fingers through hair pushing it back and letting out a long breath. "This is awkward."

"If I let go of this doorknob…" his voice cracked. He closed his eyes and gathered himself as best he could. "If I let go of this doorknob I'm going to want to walk across this room, gather you in my arms and make you mine in a lot more ways than just wearing my shirt sweetheart."

There was a silence that hung between them for a moment. He resisted the urge to look up and see if she was still there.

"Let it go."

Without a word, within seconds, his hands were on her, lifting her as he scooped her up and backed her into the wall. Her legs wrapping around his waist and holding onto him tightly as he kissed her. When her tongue met his head on, he groaned and pulled her tighter against him. She tasted and felt like heaven. His lips moved from her lips to the skin of her neck. She moaned and he rocked his pelvis against hers needing friction.

"Troy," She murmured his name.

His lips came away from her neck. He took two deep breaths, his body pinning her body beneath his. "Look, I know I said I wouldn't push you but…"

She panted softly and shook her head, as If she didn't understand. "What the hell do you want from me, Troy?"

"I want my mouth on you."

Her brows knitted together. "Yeah, well, you had your mouth on me."

Troy grinned sadistically. "That's not exactly what I had in mind." Then he leaned forward and grazed his lips over the shell of her ear. "You have about three seconds to stop me before this gets out of hand."

She blinked at him in stunned silence as the seconds ticked by.

When he was sure she was willing to partake in what the hell this was he said, "I'll take that as a yes."

He shifted and held her tightly as he turned around and softly put down on the bed. That's when he realized she wasn't wearing any underwear.

"Okay, now you're just taking away all of my fun. Do you unwrap other people's presents on their birthdays too?" his hand reached down and he inserted his fingers between her folds, finding her already wet and warm for him.

She took a deep breath, her hands quickly coming up to his shoulders. She trembled, her posture stiffened.

Sensing her hesitation, his roving hands stopped immediately "You sure you're okay with this?" he asked softly.

Gabriella nodded her head. "You just surprised me, that's all."

Troy smiled as he shifted his fingers a little and watched her eyes flutter. His fingers began to move in small circles as he watched her wither from his touch. Her hair sprawled out on the bed, his green shirt shifting and revealing one of her full, round breasts. "Jesus. You don't know how beautiful you are."

Troy kissed her again, possessively claiming her mouth. He wanted her to feel the bold caress of his tongue and the way his lips burned against hers to make her breathtakingly aware of the brutal strength of his attraction.

When he pulled away she let out a deep moan of pleasure as his lips trailed down her body, kissing every bit of exposed skin. His mouth closed over one harden nipple, making her body jolt. He sucked strongly, and she arched her back, thrusting out her chest even more, which only provided him with a better angle.

His free hand cupped her other breast, stroking and fondling until his thumb strummed over her tight bud. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply as if she enjoyed the feeling of him touching her. Then a low moan rose from her throat, and her fingers came up to his hair running over his head encouraging him to continue.

After a moment, he pulled back shifting downward until he was right where he wanted to be. Troy's mouth watered with the need to taste her. So much so that he didn't even hesitate, didn't even give her time to prepare. He just leaned forward and flicked his tongue over her clit to capture her flavor. Gabriella practically shot off the bed like a bottle rocket, but he managed to grip her hips to keep her in place. Then he lowered his mouth to her once again.

* * *

With each feathery stroke of Troy's tongue, a fierce yearning coiled in Gabriella's belly, and her eyes slid shut in ecstasy. A gripping sensation built inside her, threatening to rip her apart at the seams. Her body quivered at the thought.

"Oh God," she moaned. "Troy…please…"

She didn't know what the hell she was begging him for, but the urgent, breathless plea seemed to fuel his greedy mouth to work faster, licking, and sucking while coaxing the orgasm from deep within her. And she was so close. So damn close.

When she finally reached her peak, a strangled, incoherent sound tore from her throat, and she involuntarily bucked her hips against his face. Troy didn't stop, his mouth seemed to mold t her as the waves of pleasure rippled through her body, and she cried out again from the delicious torture.

Heaven. she'd died and gone to heaven.

"You okay to continue?" he asked after a moment.

When she only gave him a sluggish nod, he chuckled. "Okay, so round two it is," he said, still smiling as he moved for his bag. He rustled around for a moment before pulling out a small box of condoms.

Gabriella pushed herself up on her elbows. "You brought condoms with you?"

Troy grinned. "Yeah, so I did." He said with a shrug. "I'm a guy. Sue me."

"Confident much?" she managed as she pulled herself up onto the bed a little more.

Troy shrugged out of his already unbuttoned dress shirt then pulled his undershirt over his head. His hard, well-muscled chest stared back at her and her mouth went dry.

Troy with a shirt was hot. Troy without a shirt was fucking orgasmic. She lay there staring up at him while her heart hammered relentlessly against her rib cage. She licked her bottom lip.

"See something you like, sweetheart?"

She dared to nod. And was rewarded with that smoldering look in his blue eyes as he began to undo his pants.

"You look amazing in my shirt. You should never wear anything else."

That made her giggle as she lifted a hand stifled the noise.

"By the way," Troy pushed his pants down with his boxers in one swift move kicking them off and adding them to the pile of clothes on the floor. "I'm going to try to be as quiet as I can, but you might want to hold on to the headboard for this."

Was it possible to be any more turned on than she was right now? She moved again to the top of the bed and he watched her as he rolled the condom onto himself. Her stomach fluttered as he got onto the bed and moved so that he was between her legs. His hand gripped her ankles and pulled her down until she felt him brush up against her sex.

He was hard. Rock hard. Because of her.

Without warning Troy shoved into her with a deliberate thrust and Gabriella gasped, her body tensing as she grated her nails on the wood in search of the headboard. _Oh, fuck._

He held himself still as if he were waiting for her to get her bearings. Thank God. Because she needed a moment to adjust to the overwhelming sensation of fullness and heavy pressure against her cervix.

* * *

Troy groaned.

God, she was tight. His cock ached to move inside her, but not yet. He wanted to wait for her to give him the go-ahead before he continued. He couldn't help the smile spreading across his face though. "You okay, sweetheart?"

Gabriella said something unintelligible, which only made him grin more. Then she wrapped her fingers around the edge of the wooden headboard and added, "Mmm-hmm."

Digging his fingers into her hips, he withdrew until he was almost all the way out, then slid home again. Her body trembled as he filled her and she moaned. Warm and pliant, her wet heat squeezed around him, clamping down on him, which made breathing almost unbearable, but her insistent pleas ignited a primal urge to do it again.

Hot and hard inside her, he continued to pump into her over and over with a fast-paced rhythm that was barely sustainable. It had been a while since he'd been with a woman, and the searing need to climax was already burning through him with every plunge.

Troy's breathing grew more ragged. His entire body vibrated with the need to satisfy his craving for her once and for all, and he didn't think he could hold off much longer. "Christ, Gabriella, if we don't slow this down, I'm gonna-"

"Oh God! Come," she demanded quietly, arching her back off the bed. Her inner muscles squeezed tighter, gripping him relentlessly as she climaxed around his length.

 _Thank God._

The antique bed shook back and forth with the force of his thrust as Troy drove into her even harder, pounding with a fast-paced rhythm until the pressure exploded from within. His dick throbbed inside her as hot blood coursed through his veins. When his knees threatened to buckle, he leaned forward and palmed the headboard to hold himself upright.

Sprayed out in front of him, Gabriella's curvy body purred with a sigh of satisfaction. She wore a dazed expression with glassy, unconcerned eyes. His shirt was open exposing both her breast, two buttons remain intact and hitched around her stomach in a wrinkled mess. _Mine_.

This gorgeous, curvaceous body underneath him belong to him. There was no way they could go back to being friends who had never had sex before. Shit just didn't work that way.

"You okay?"

"God, yes." She blurted with a small smile, then suddenly she placed a hand over her face. "You don't think anyone heard us, do you?"

"It's possible. To be fair I did say I would try to be quiet."

A small laugh erupted from her lips and she used both her hands to stifle the noise. "Oh my god, I'm a horrible person."

He flexed once more inside her, earning a gasp.

"Sensitive sweetheart?"

She sighed and her left leg shifted so it came up over his. She squeezed her muscles and this time he let out a sharp hiss.

"Sensitive sweetheart?" she asked with a wicked smile.

He gently separated from her and wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. "You fight dirty."

Gabriella let out a laughed as she reached for the covers and began pulling them over herself. "How am I going to face my family in the morning?"

"With a smile, I hope," Troy said removing the condom.

"This is mortifying."

Troy got up from the bed and made his way to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. When he returned to the bed Gabriella had placed a pillow over her face.

Troy smiled and came over lifting the pillow. "Gabriella, worrying about it now is pointless. You enjoyed yourself, there nothing wrong with that."

She let out a breath and a strand of hair fluttered upward. "You're right. I know you are. I just wish I didn't feel so guilty and horrible."

Troy smiled and got back into bed. His arms reached for her and he pulled her into him. "This okay?" he asked before settling.

She was quiet for a moment. "Yes, it's perfect."


	7. Chapter 7

**Quick Note: Sorry for the sloppy posting schedule. There is a lot going on, and unfortunately, that means not a lot of writing is being done. I almost forgot how much work it is keeping up with the workflow, but it's always worth it** **! Happy Holidays to everyone!**

The next morning, Gabriella yawned sleepily as she mixed the batter. Whenever she visited her grandparents she made her famous chocolate chip pancakes. This visit was no exception. Warm and relaxed, she hated the idea of getting out of bed this morning. She even tried to drift back to sleep, but before she could, she remembered she wasn't alone.

The muted glow of blue morning lights filtered through the cream-colored curtains, illuminating the bedroom. Troy was lying on his side, the sheets covering him from the waist down. She'd woken up lying against his chest.

A small smile spread across her lips as she held the bowl in her arm and whisked the batter. Memories fluttered to the surface. The insatiable man had taken her three more times last night, and each session had lasted longer than the previous one. Luckily, they had also been quieter. Clearly, however, the man was trying to kill her. Death by…desire? _Was that a thing?_

Her whisking stopped as she lifted three fingers to cover her lips. She couldn't help but giggle. Her eyes darted around the kitchen. She was alone. Her grandparents had woken up early and gone for a walk. She passed them on her way to the kitchen. If they had anything to say to her about last night, they didn't mention it. _Thank God_.

She placed the bowl on the countertop and made her way to the fridge, her sock covered feet quietly tiptoeing around the kitchen. She wasn't quite ready yet for confronting Troy. Sleeping with him had probably been a big mistake. What was she going to do when the lie had run its course? When he came to his senses and figured out she wasn't worth all the headache?

Friends with benefits.

She blew her bangs out of her face as she worked around the kitchen. What had she been thinking? How was she even supposed to face him after last night? What was she going to say to him? Good morning, great sex? Good morning, are you as sore as I am?

Her thighs ached in the most delicious way. An imprinted memory on her body of his presence. She could still feel him between her legs. Taste him on her lips and she knew her skin, if she smelled it, would smell like him. Like a wooded forest and salted ocean air. She still had his shirt on, with a pair of grey sweats.

"I wondered where you ran off too, can I help with anything?"

Gabriella's head shot up to see Troy standing in the kitchen doorway with his hands shoved into his pockets. His entire demeanor seemed relaxed and warm. As if the weight of a thousand problems had been lifted from his shoulders and he'd finally caught up on a good night's sleep. It was disturbingly unfair.

"I'm almost done."

Troy entered the kitchen, "Do you always wake up this early to cook?" The tips of hair were still wet. He must have showered.

Gabriella shrugged, "Mornings are always so busy at the bakery. I don't think I've slept past six am since it opened."

Troy nodded as he made his way over to the counter and leaned on it with his elbows. "Does anyone ever make y _ou_ pancakes?"

Gabriella shook her head. "Why would they?" Gabriella let out a laugh, "I've been baking and cooking since I was eight years old."

The corner of his lips turned downward. "But it's _your_ vacation too."

She waved him off, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. "Don't be silly, Troy. It's still breakfast, no matter who makes the pancakes."

Troy caught her arm as she picked up the bowl of pancake batter. "If it really doesn't matter, why don't you sit, and I finish."

"It's fine, I don't mind."

Troy didn't take no for an answer, instead, he took the bowl from her arms and made his way over to the stove. "Why don't you have a cup of coffee?"

She was stunned for a moment. Unsure what to say. Wordlessly, she made her way over to the coffee maker made herself a cup. After a moment, she turned in his direction. "You make pancakes?"

"I have a seven-year-old brother," he said matter of fact. "I can make dinosaur pancakes."

That caught her off guard.

"Geez, I've been spilling my guts about me all weekend, I almost forgot you had a brother so young." Guilt swept through her as she realized just how little she knew about the man whose scent was all over her body.

"Christian likes dinosaurs," Troy shrugged. "He's smart. Way smarter than I was at his age. At his age, I think I only cared about comic books."

"I used to read Archie comics," Gabriella offered as she took a seat at the counter. "Taylor was Veronica and I was Betty."

"I always had the hots for Betty," Troy smiled.

She could feel another blush on her cheeks, grateful he was distracted. The sounds of the spatula scraped along the pan as he lifted, flipped and then patted a pancake. No one had ever made her pancakes before.

"Good morning," her mother's voice made her smile fade. She immediately wished she'd taken the time to shower and straighten up.

Her mother was wearing a red blouse with black trousers. Her hair blow dried with perfection and makeup flawlessly applied. Gabriella could never master the art of contour and blending. Her beauty routine consisted of some eyeliner and lip gloss.

"Morning mother," she said with a small smile.

"He cooks?" her mother eyed Troy who was pouring another pancake on to the pan.

"Apparently," Gabriella shrugged as she lifted her coffee to her lips.

Her mother nodded and her eyes came back to Gabriella, "Not to put too fine a point on it, but flawless skin should probably be one of your top priorities for your wedding day, right up there with securing a stunning venue."

Gabriella's smile faded. "Right."

"Most women don't realize that your skincare routine truly starts in the shower and that using a gentle cleanser is key," her mother said shifting so examine Gabriella's face. "We can head into town today and pick something up. We'll need to really clean out your pores."

"Okay."

"We should also do something about your hair."

"My hair?"

Her mother fingers plucked a strand of it from her ponytail. "Honestly Gabi, you really should take better care of your hair. Split ends are not attractive."

Her eyes shifted over to Troy. His jaw clenched, and a muscle ticked in his cheek, but he didn't say anything.

"Trust me, once you're engaged, the picture-taking never stops. You'll thank me later."

"I think she's picture perfect right now," Troy said quietly. "I imagine she's going to look even more radiant on the day of."

Gabriella's narrowed as she watched him turn to pick up another plate. What was he doing? He shouldn't be saying things like that. He should be working on making her mother hate him. That was the plan, wasn't it?

Before Gabriella could utter a word, the front door opened and her grandparents reappeared.

"My goodness, breakfast smells delightful," her grandmother clapped her hands together. "Good morning everyone."

"Good morning mom," Gabriella's mother greeted. "Gabriella and I were just discussing some ideas for the wedding. I think we should go into town today and maybe look at a few wedding dresses."

"Oh that sounds like fun," her grandmother said as she came over to the table.

Gabriella grimaced. "Mom, we don't have to do that right now. There's plenty of time to do that later." _Like when I am engaged to a man who is actually going to marry me rather than one who just wants to sleep with me._

God. She still couldn't believe what was happening to her life. The memories of sleeping with him sent shivers up her spine.

"Sweetheart, we have to start talking about these things now. Do you know how much thought goes into a wedding?" It must have been a rhetorical question because her mother barely took a breath before the next question flew out of her mouth. "What do you think about having canapes served at the reception rather than a full course meal? It would be much more sophisticated, I think."

Troy cleared his throat and fiddled with the collar of his shirt, seemingly uncomfortable with the conversation. Served him right for his earlier encouragement.

"Mom, we haven't even set a date yet."

"Well, that's easy enough. I've been thinking about where we should have your wedding, and I had a great idea. It should be at the Water Gardens. It's a wonderful location, and the fountains would make a beautiful backdrop for the wedding photos."

Gabriella bit her lip as she stared down at her coffee. "Um, I don't know, Mom."

"Well, why not? It would be perfect. you always said you wanted to be married here, but it would be much more suitable location than what you had in mind."

Gabriella glanced over at Troy, and her right eye twitched, nervously. She thought for sure he would be slinking away from any talk of marriage or wedding plans, but his gaze was glued to her as if he were waiting to hear her response as well.

"Mom, let's not talk about this right now. There's plenty of time for that la-"

"What other location?" Troy asked, injecting himself into the conversation and effectively cutting Gabriella off. When she didn't answer him right away, he shifted his eyes to her mother. "What other place, Maria?"

Her mom waved her slim hand through the air dismissively, as if she couldn't even bother considering the idea. "Oh, she had this crazy plan about having a small wedding on the beach. But I told her it isn't a smart choice for formal wear."

"And I told you that I don't want a formal wedding," Gabriella corrected.

"Sure you do, dear. Every girl wants to look beautiful for her wedding. Besides, squeezing into a fancy gown on your special day would give you a good incentive to lose those few pounds you put on since the bakery."

Gabriella swallowed the gasp that tried to vacate her mouth and scowled at her mother. Jeez, did she have to say that right in front of Troy of all people? It's like the woman purposely tried to embarrass her at times.

"That's enough," Troy said placing a plate of pancakes on the table. His eyes settled firmly on Gabriella's mother. "I don't want to hear those kind of insulting remarks about my fiancée."

Gabriella cringed. _Shit._

Her mother blinked back in apparent shock. "Insulting? I...I'm not insulting her." Then she pushed her hair away from her face as she regained her composure. "I'm just trying to give my daughter some good advice. Lord knows she never listens to it anyway. I'm just trying to be helpful."

"We know dear," her grandmother placed a hand on Maria's shoulder. "Why don't you go get Luis for breakfast."

"Yeah, because if he's not down here in five minutes. I'm eating his helping." her grandfather came around the counter island to a plate of pancakes. "Chocolate chip pancakes, my favorite."

Her Grandmother came to the kitchen island and wrapped her arms around Gabriella. "There is nothing more beautiful than a woman in love. You're glowing, absolutely glowing. Isn't she glowing Maria?"

"Of course, she is. And that's how it should be." Her mother said as she crossed her arms and smiled before leaving the kitchen.

"Thanks, grandma." Gabriella let out a sigh as she leaned back into her grandmothers embrace.

Gabriella let out a small sigh of relief and smiled as Troy set down a plate of pancakes in front of her. "Thanks."

"A beach wedding sounds perfect to me."

Her grandmother let out a sigh as she reached her hands out to grab the sides of Troy's face. "Such a good man for my granddaughter."

* * *

Troy let out a string of curse words and threw the hammer into the yard.

"Need a hand with that?" Luis asked, chuckling under his breath. Or maybe I should just offer you my thumbs. You seem to be running out of yours."

Her grandfather had asked him to put together a simple fire pit, and since Gabriella had gone into town with her mother and grandmother. He figured he would busy himself somehow. Troy looked down at his aching thumb and gritted his teeth. "I still got one good one left." But at this rate, he wouldn't have it for long.

Served him right though. He should have been paying more attention to what he was doing rather than thinking about spending last night with Gabriella.

Luis gestured to the patio chair across the table from him and set down two glasses of ice tea. "Why don't you sit down and take a break for a minute. You might work better if you cool off a little."

Aggravated with himself, Troy plopped down in the chair and wiped the sweat from his brow. The afternoon sun was still burning bright, and the heat was starting to get to him. Just like Gabriella had.

"You want to talk about it?"

"No. It's nothing. Just something I'm trying to work out in my head." Troy took a big gulp of sweet tea.

"I see. Well, if you need someone to talk to…"

Troy nodded. "Thanks. I appreciate it. I'm sure the problem will work itself out soon enough."

"And if it doesn't?"

"I know where to find you…and your thumbs." Troy grinned and then took another swallow of tea.

A moment of silence passed between them before her father spoke again. "I like you, Troy."

"Luis, if you don't stop flirting with me, I'm going to tell your daughter on you."

He chuckled and pointed at Troy. "Right there. That is exactly what I'm talking about. You're a fun guy, and Gabi hasn't always had that in her life. I see the way she is with you, the way she looks at you, and how happy she is having you around. The two of you fit together nicely."

Troy's blood ran cold. It was as if the man in front of him were a doctor who had just administered a heavy dose of guilt directly into his veins. Luis wouldn't be saying any of this if he'd known that Troy had been having sex with his daughter with no intention of turning it into a relationship. "Well, Gabriella's a great girl," he muttered quietly.

Her dad's eyes filled with pride. "Yes, she is. And she's also my favorite daughter."

Confused, Troy quirked a brow at him. "Isn't she your only daughter?"

"Well, yeah, but just because Gabriella didn't happen to have any competition in the daughter department doesn't mean she would automatically be considered my favorite. I've seen lots of parents who may love their children but can't stand the little shits."

"Touché," Troy said smiling.

"But Gabriella is a good girl. She's respectful and kind and hasn't got a mean bone in her body. She cares about the people around her, even when they don't deserve it. Like George. When that little prick broke things off with her, I was dancing on the rooftops. She deserves someone better, a guy who will always come to her defense and appreciate her for who she is. Someone like you."

Troy didn't know how to respond so he just nodded in agreement.

Thankfully, Luis continued without hesitation. "I have to tell you, Troy, when I first heard about her getting engaged, I wasn't the least bit surprised. I always knew Gabi would one day meet that special guy who would love her for who she is. One who would put a ring on her finger as quickly as possible to keep another man from snatching her away." he cleared his throat, and a glossy sheen fell over his eyes as his emotions got the better of him. "Look, we didn't know each other at the time, and you may not have asked for my blessing, but I'm telling you…It's yours. You have it. I'd be proud to call you my son-in-law."

 _Well, fuck._ Now, what was he supposed to do? This whole thing was supposed to be a quick solution to help Gabriella out of an engagement that she was never really in, to begin with. Instead, they were screwing with these people's heads, and things were getting too far out of hand. And he had no one to blame but himself. If Troy hadn't opened his mouth at George's wedding, then none of this would have happened.

But then he never would have been able to get to know her. The thought made him frown, would she have given him a chance? Probably not. But the choice would be up to her, rather than him forcing her into a situation.

Under the circumstances, Troy did the only thing he could. He shook Luis's hand and muttered a quick, "Thanks. That means a lot." Then he stood, retrieved his hammer and continued working on the fire pit.

* * *

Last night everything seemed so simple.

But today, things were different. Things were snowballing. There were feelings to consider. Well, hers anyway. Troy had made it clear that the only things he was interested in were friendship and benefits. Anything beyond that hadn't been agreed upon between them.

Probably for the best anyway.

After this weekend, the whole charade would be over. Troy hadn't made her family hate him, so Gabriella had no choice but to take matters into her own hands.

"He lied to me."

Gabriella's mother shifted through the rack of dresses. Gabriella had never seen so much white tulle or lace, she could hardly figure out where one dress ended and the next dress started.

"Men lie, darling." Maria pulled out another strapless dress. "Your shoulders would look fabulous in this, of course, that would mean you need to tan and moisturize more."

Gabriella held out her already outstretched arm piled with dresses. They were so heavy her arms began to dip a little. Was it the actual weight of the fabric, the lie, or the weight of something she'd never have but desperately wanted?

"When we first meet. He lied about who he was."

"Hardly relevant darling, you two are so close now. What does it matter how you met." her mother held up her hand to flag down a saleswoman. "Can we have a fitting room please?"

"Mom, no relationship can survive without trust, honesty, and communications, no matter how close you are."

"Honestly," her mother spun around. "Why do you always feel the need to self-sabotage. Why can't you just let things be."

"What?" Gabriella made a face. "I don't self-sabotage."

"Right this way ladies," the saleswoman led them to a back area where every wall had a mirror. Great, just what she needed. A 360 view of her worst nightmares.

Her grandmother came over with three different veils. "These are so gorgeous."

"Let me know if you need anything at all, I can pull sizes, styles, find accessories, whatever you need."

 _What about fetching an actual fiancé?_ Gabriella thought as she faked a smile.

"We're alright for the moment, thank you." Maria smiled as she looked through the veils in her mother's arms.

"Isn't this exciting, three generations of married women," her grandmother giggled.

"Not married yet," Gabriella reminded.

Her grandmother let out a laugh, "Oh, you know what I mean." She smiled at Gabriella and then let out a swoon. "I can't wait to see the grandbabies."

Gabriella's eyes widen. It's not that she didn't like babies. Some of them were quite cute in fact. It's just that everyone wants to know when she was having a baby. And, she meant _everyone_. Her extended family. Their family friends. Customers. The random employee at the bank helping her with a deposit. _Everyone._ The last week alone had been one big long list of questions about all these things she secretly wanted and now everyone thought she was on the cusp of having.

How much was life going to suck when all this was over.

Ever since the announcement she been immediately obligated to grab a beer or glass of wine so no one had a second to wonder if she might be pregnant. Hell, if she could sip a glass of wine while ringing people up at the register she would.

But then a soft warm feeling flooded her heart. Because, the truth is, she did have baby fantasies. Whenever she'd been caught in a quiet moment alone, she liked to imagine all the fun things she would do if she had a child. She would daydream about weekends in the park with Troy and their son, because yes, her fantasies are gender specific.

Troy would be a great dad. Their family of three would be snug and cozy and sweet and loving. They would sing silly songs and share lots of hugs and inside jokes. She wouldn't be a supermom, but she would love the heck out of her kid and do everything in her power to give him a happy childhood.

"Gabriella?" her mother raised a brow. She was asking for the dresses.

Her thoughts snapped back to the present. "Sorry," she smiled and handed her mother the dresses in her arms.

"She too busy daydreaming about the honeymoon," Grandma said with a knowing smile. "Where are you going to honeymoon?"

"I don't know," Gabriella said honestly. She never really thought about it. She was sure that if the situation was actually happening if she were actually a happy bride planning out the rest of her life…maybe she'd know.

"Plenty of time for that." Grandma reached over and started taking Gabriella's purse. "Today is all about the dress."

The dress. Gabriella looked where her mother had hung up the four dresses she'd picked out. This was cruel. If only they knew how cruel. They could. She could tell them. Just confess everything and then they could laugh about the whole thing and go get margaritas.

"Grandma, has Grandpa ever lied to you?"

"Of course," her grandmother laughed. "Pathetic really, he thinks he can get away with it. Like I can't smell the beer on his breath."

"I thought the doctor told him about that," Maria frowned. "He shouldn't be drinking while he takes medication."

"Oh please," Grandma waved it off. "Life's too short to live life so carefully. One beer, once in a great while won't kill you."

"Yes, it can." Maria exasperated.

Grandma shook her head and returned her attention to Gabriella. "Why are you asking about lies?"

"Troy lies. Sometimes."

"What kind of lies?" her grandmother brow furrowed in concern.

"Harmless lies," Maria said guiding her into the fitting room. "Why are you making this such a big deal? You know who he is. You love him. You're getting married. There's nothing to worry about."

Gabriella felt a pinch of guilt. She needed a new plan. Maybe she should wait until they returned home. Then she could avoid any contact with her family for a few days, then drop by to tell them that he had broken off their supposed engagement.

Undoubtedly, she would be a hot mess when she delivered the news that she and Troy were over. Even now, just the thought of never seeing him again had tears lodging in her tight throat. She wasn't even sure what excuse she would give them yet, but this was the only logical and more reasonable option she had. Never in a million years would anyone in her family believe that she'd actually broken up with him.

None of them were that stupid.

It was obvious that she cared about him. Probably too much really. It was ridiculous when she thought about it. She was dreading the loss of a fiancé that she never really had to begin with. But why?

Because she was a damn fool, that's why.

A stupid, sentimental fool who had made the biggest mistake of her life. She'd fallen for a guy who wanted to have sex with her but had no interest in being in a relationship. _Smart move, Gabi._

There was always a chance that Troy would change his mind about having his cake and eating it too. Hell, who knew? Maybe he already had. Maybe that's what this morning was all about.

 _Stop it. Don't be irrational._

* * *

That night there was company over. Maria had invited family friends over for drinks and snacks. Everyone was friendly and excited. The congratulated Gabriella and Troy on their engagement. Troy felt the knot in his stomach get a little tighter.

After a moment of looking for her, he found her inside putting together another snack tray. "You know, I think they sell snack trays at the store."

"Shit," a grape fell out of her hand and rolled onto the floor. He watched as her lips formed a tight little line of frustration.

"Sorry," he said calmly. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Gabriella shook her head and bent down to pick up the grape. "It's fine. I was just thinking."

"Million dollars for your thoughts?"

Her eyes narrowed, "It's supposed to be a penny."

Troy shrugged, "Haven't you heard?" he leaned forward a little and whispered. "I'm loaded."

She smiled. He liked it when she smiled.

Gabriella placed a hand on over her face. "My mother is embarrassing."

Troy shrugged. "It's alright, I'm use it." Ever since he could remember his financial status had always been rattled off as if it were a personality trait or something. _This is Troy, he's rich and funny._ What more did people need to know, right? Troy let out a sigh.

What people didn't understand about money was that after the novelty wore off it was meaningless. Of course, his money made his life easier in countless ways, there was no doubt about that, but it was just normal for him. It always had been. Anyone could sit and imagine being able to thoughtlessly spend thousands of dollars on a single bottle of champagne, and it would be a thrill. And maybe the first time, it would be. But for Troy? It was like buying another cup of coffee.

People thought about money too much. The truth was it didn't really make you anything. It was just money.

"You want to know something weird?" she said cleaning up the little area she was working in.

"Yeah," he said picking up the old tray and picking at the scraps. "I'm into weird."

Gabriella smiled at that. She seemed hesitant for a moment as if she wasn't sure she should say what was on her mind. He instantly hated that. He always wanted her to speak freely. He loved that about her. _Loved._ "You know, you want to tell me," he coaxed pushing the L word to the back of his mind.

She let out a sigh, "After watching so many of my friends get engaged, I've always wondered what it would feel like, you know, for everyone to just come up to you and congratulate you just for being in love."

"And?" he watched her intently. The L word resurfaced.

That hint of a smile reappeared until it was full blown. She never looked more beautiful. "It feels wonderful," a small laugh escaped and she bought a hand to her lips. "Oh God, does that make me horrible?"

"Gabriella," he said tenderly. "I don't think you could be horrible if you tired."

Something shifted in her smile and it slowly disappeared. "We should talk."

Immediately his entire body broke into a cold sweat. He hitched his breath, his fist clenching and unclenching by his side. "Look, about last night." He could've kicked himself for starting with something so lame.

"Actually," Gabriella said, snapping out of her trance. She quickly made sure they were alone. "We should really talk about today. You know, I thought the plan was to make them hate you."

"I don't want them to hate me." He tried to make eye contact with her, but she just stared down at the tray of snacks.

"Damn it, Troy." She whispered. "Don't tell me you're backing out on me. You promised to help me get out of this mess." When he didn't respond right away, she threw her hands in the air. "Oh, that's just great. So this is why you've been on your best behavior today? You changed your mind about helping me and didn't want to tell me?"

"Gabriella, just let me explain."

"What is there to explain? You want to change our agreement and come up with a new plan."

Troy motioned for her to keep her voice down as her father came inside.

Luis smiled as he came into the kitchen, "Hey lovebirds. Your mother sent me in, is the tray done, princess?"

"Yeah," she forced a smile and picked up the tray. "Sorry, um…we got distracted."

"No worries," her father took the tray from her hands and leaned in to place a kiss on her cheek. "I was young once. I know it's not exciting to hang out with your parent's friends."

He chuckled and made his way back outside leaving them both in silence again.

"We leave tomorrow. I can't keep lying to my family. The old plan was fine." She moved to leave, but he stopped her.

"Not if we were going to stay together, it wasn't." he paused for a moment to judge her reaction. But there was none. "I want a do-over."

"A do-over?" She glared at him, her lips set in a thin line. "This isn't a game. This is my family."

"I know that."

"Do you?" She countered. "You told them we were getting married. _Married._ Troy, I know your father probably didn't teach this part very well, but marriage is kind of permanent!"

"I know that too."

"God, I can't believe you're doing this to me. You're putting me in a position where I have no choice but to tell my family the truth."

He sighed. "Look, I know you're upset. I'm sorry. I don't really want your family to hate me, okay? They're good people, and…well, I like them."

 _Most of them anyway._

Gabriella closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. She was pissed and couldn't blame her one bit.

"Look, I'm just saying that maybe we should do this so it's amicable and no one has to get thrown under the bus."

Her eyes shot open. "Are you nuts? That'll never work. Who the hell breaks up with their fiancé on good terms?"

"Anything is possible at this point." Troy let out a sigh as he tried desperately to figure out exactly what he wanted.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked her voice cracking a little.

When he didn't respond she let out a long sigh. "If you're not on board then I'll do it myself." She put her hands on her hips, and her face bent with rage. "You cheating asshole!"

"Huh?" His head snapped to her, the back door slide shut and he turned to see her father coming inside.

"Who is she?" Gabriella said, raising her voice even louder. "Who's the whore you've been sleeping with behind my back?"

Troy squinted at her and shook his head. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, don't play innocent with me. I knew you were a player when I met you, but I didn't think you would keep seeing other girls on the side. God, I'm such an idiot. I should've known better than to get mixed up with someone like you."

A throat cleared behind them. "Is everything okay, Gabi?"

 _Just fucking great._

"Oh, everything is perfect, Dad," Gabriella said with sarcastic flair "Only Troy is apparently cheating on me." She covered her face with her hands and fake-sobbed into them.

 _God damn it. She even looked believable._

Troy turned back to her father and held up both of his hands in surrender. "I'm not cheating on her, I swear," he said before spinning back to Gabriella. He lowered his voice to keep from being overheard. "Gabriella stop it. What the hell are you doing?"

She kept her hands over her face but whispered back in a clear determined voice, "I'm ending this…with or without your help." Then she fake-cried into her hands some more, jerking her shoulders up and down as if she were expelling brokenhearted tears.

He instantly wanted to shake her. Damn her. He was a lot of things, but a cheater wasn't one of them. Sheepishly Troy held up a finger to her dad, asking him to give them a moment alone. Then he steered Gabriella back towards their bedroom. Once he was sure they were out of earshot and sight he stopped and wheeled her around to face him. "Knock it off."

Her face straightened instantly, and she glared back at him. "No. if you don't want to help me anymore, then that's fine. But you aren't leaving me a choice. I'm tired of lying to them and I want this over with…today."

He shook his head. "Not like this."

"Why? What do you care if they hate you? I mean it's not like you're ever going to see them again. I'm the one who has to face them for years to come."

"I know, but…"

"But what? Jesus, Troy. Do you plan on becoming my dad's bowling partner or something?"

He shrugged lightly. He _did_ like to bowl on occasion with the crew, but he didn't think now would have been a good time to bring that up.

"What? Now you have nothing to say?"

Unable to stop himself, Troy slid his hands up to her neck, threaded his fingers through her hair, and pressed his mouth to hers. Her breath hitched at the unexpected gesture, but she didn't protest or push him away. _Good_. He liked knowing that he affected her the same way she did him.

His lips continued to move against hers, seeking more of the response he so desperately needed until she tangled her fingers into the front of his shirt and leaned against him as if her legs were unable to hold her upright.

Desire flooded over him, attempting to wash away any senses he had left. But he didn't care. He angled her head, slid his tongue past her lips, and deepened the kiss. Every part of her mother tasted like warm sweet hot chocolate. Sweet. Decadent. Intoxicating. Enough to drive a man entirely out of his mind. And the vanilla scent of her perfuming her fevered skin only worsened his craving.

"God, do you have to suck face right outside my room?" Matt's voice whined behind them and Troy broke the kiss and tore himself away from her. They both sprung apart as her brother made teasing noises as he disappeared down the hallway.

 _Jesus._

Gabriella licked her plump, swollen, lip as if she was still trying to taste him there, but confusion filled her eyes. "What was that for?" she whispered.

"I want to date you."

The right side of his face exploded as she slapped him across the face. Followed by the sound of her footsteps making her way down the hall.

 _Shit._


	8. Chapter 8

She looked out into the driveway. _Where was she going? What was she going to do?_ Frustrated, she focused on the pavement beneath her feet, blinked away the unshed tears burning her eyes, and swallowed the lump forming in her throat. Her lips pinched tightly together.

His truck was in the driveway. She tried the handle and it opened. _Thank God._ She quickly climbed in and sat in the passenger seat.

Her heart sank with disappointment and confusion. _This wasn't happening._ If she had known he was going to pull this crap and back out on her at the last minute, then she would never have let the fake engagement ruse continue. In such a brief period of time, everything had become so muddled. Now she needed to figure out what she was going to do before she and Troy got any deeper with her family. Basically, before her mother started planning the wedding of the century that neither of them would be attending.

The driver's side door opened and Troy climbed in. The scent of his soap loitering on his warm skin and clinging to the air around him. For a moment, she closed her eyes and inhaled the scent, reveling in its richness and admiring the citrus undertones. Both sat there quietly with only the awkward sounds of their synchronized breathing.

"I was married for nine years and that was the first time I've ever been slapped."

"Get out," she said, pushing a strand of hair from her eyes.

"No," he said shifting in his seat so he was more comfortable. "What just happened?"

"You know what happened," she muttered quietly.

"No. I don't know what happened. Obviously, I don't."

She let out a long shaky breath. "You have no idea what you want. Maybe it's not a big deal for you because they aren't your family, but they are mine. I can't keep dragging this out and leading them on. I don't want them to get attached to you." _Like I am._

"Oh, come on. They aren't attached to me. I'm just a new shiny object to them."

"Not even close. My family adores you, and at this rate, I'm pretty sure you're going to get them in the divorce."

He shook his head. "Stop it. It's not going to come to that."

"Well, then why can't you just put an end to all of this and put me out of my misery."

"Your misery?"

"You really have no idea." Mortification burned through her, and Gabriella's heart shriveled. She didn't know why he was staring at her like that, but she no longer cared. "I love you. I don't want to keep torturing myself by pretending to be engaged to a man who only wants to screw me."

Troy inhaled and then released with a long sigh. "You have to understand. My last marriage was…a nightmare. I wasn't at the coffee shop because I was ready to date. You just sat down in front me."

"Then why did you lie about being my date?"

"I didn't lie." He said, sounding aggravated. "You assumed I was your date."

She sighed. "Jesus, Troy. What do you want?"

"You, goddamnit. I want you."

* * *

 _God, he was such a fucking coward._

There would be no winners in this game they were playing, and someone would wind up getting hurt. And that person would most likely be Gabriella. And she was all that mattered to him.

Okay, that wasn't entirely true. Somewhere along the way, he'd started to care what her family thought of him too. He didn't want them to hate him and didn't regret backing out on his and Gabriella's agreement. Her new plan to make her family believe he was a cheating bastard had been a good one. But damn it, he wanted her in his life. _She loved him._

The last thing he needed was to put himself in a position where he'd break someone's heart. His last marriage had ended so horribly. Yes, he wanted to settle down, but he wasn't willing to settle for the next girl who came along, no matter how much he liked her or how attracted he was to her. Call him crazy, but he wanted to be sure of his feelings before he got sucked into another crazy ride into marriageville.

And right now, he wasn't all that sure of anything anymore.

He just hadn't meant to say that out loud.

But now that he had, he damn sure wasn't going to take it any of it back. He _did_ want her. And it was about damn time she realized it.

 _She loved him._

"I want you," he repeated.

"Well, excuse me for not signing up immediately to be your plaything." She reached for the door handle and Troy hit the lock button.

"I don't know much about relationships," he admitted.

"Here's a tip, they usually don't go well in hostage situations."

"I definitely don't know anything about love." He said ignoring her last statement. "These last two weeks have been insane, but I do know what I want."

When she didn't try to escape again he let out a sigh.

"All I want…like in the world is to just keep talking to you. I want to know how your day was, where you want to eat, I want to argue with you, and I want to hear all your theories, even the ones that are…completely crazy. I know it's not that simple. I know we're in a weird and crazy situation. But-."

There was a sharp knock on the window. Both gasped as they found her mother's face up against the passenger side window. Her lips pressed into a thin grim line.

Troy hit the unlock button and door flew open.

"What in the world is going on?" she began with an annoyed tone. "We have guests and your father is babbling about Troy sleeping with another woman."

Gabriella's head fell back onto the headrest. "Mom, not now _please_."

"No, I think now is more than appropriate."

Troy grimaced as he looked past her mother to find some of the guest now standing on the porch and looking in their direction. Dear God, was there ever going to be a moment between them where he didn't entirely make an idiot out of himself.

"Maria-"

"Are you cheating on her?"

 _Wow. Okay._ "No."

Her mother's gaze at him warily then turned her attention to Gabriella. "Are you calling off the wedding?"

Troy's heart stilled.

 _Please, say no._

After everything that had happened between them, being just friends was no longer an option. Not knowing her at all was not even possible. He wanted her too damn much to allow any opportunity for another guy to come into the picture. The very thought of another man putting his grubby hands on her body made Troy want to take out a hammer and break someone's fingers.

 _He loved her._

"Mom, would you _please_ just go back inside."

"Not until I know what's going on."

 _Oh, for crying out loud._ "I'm proposing to my fiancée."

Gabriella turned back towards him. "Troy, stop it. This isn't funny."

"It's not meant to be funny." He took her hand. "I should have told you all of this sooner but I fell for you, Gabriella. I didn't mean to. Hell. I even tried to stop it from happening. But the more involved I became, the more I realized the desserts you make aren't the sweetest thing about you."

"Troy…"

"Let me finish, please." His eyes narrowed from Gabriella to back to her mother urging both to be quiet. "You're kind, considerate, funny, and real. More real than any other woman I've ever met. Not to mention unbelievably sexy."

"Oh," her mother gasped.

"You wanted to be here," he said pointedly.

Gabriella winced. "Troy…"

"Shh! I'm on a roll, sweetheart." He winked at her. "Gabriella Montez, somewhere along the way, I stopped pretending. I fell in love with you. Do you hear me? I love you. I don't want to be friends with you. I want you to be my wife…for real this time."

A tear tracked down her cheek. "You mean that?"

"Every last fucking word."

Gabriella lunched forward over the gear shift her lips landing on his, his hands quickly wrapping around her. His heart swelled, filling with more happiness than he'd ever known.

"Is that a yes?"

She smiled and gazed deeply into his eyes. "What do you think?"

He kissed her again.

"Everything is going to be fine." Maria shouted back to the audience they'd accumulated. "Just a little lover's spat. No worries."

"Mother," Gabriella hissed between her teeth.

He couldn't seem to stop himself from grinning, "You want to get out of here for a bit, maybe get a pizza or something?"

Gabriella nodded vigorously as she returned to her seat.

Troy pulled his keys out of his pocket and brought the truck to life.

"Wait, where are you going?" Maria spun back around.

"Out." Gabriella said pulling her passenger door shut. Even with the door shut they could still hear Maria scolding them from outside. "Regretting your decision yet?" Gabriella mumbled.

"You're going to owe me a lot of cupcakes."

* * *

6 Months Later

Taylor stuck her finger in her mouth and sucked off the chocolate as a pair of brown eyes narrowed at her. "What?" she asked.

Gabriella shook her head and went back to smoothing buttercream around the sides of her cake. "Please tell me you don't lick your fingers when you're making desserts for my customers."

"Depends on what I'm making," Taylor said, grinning as Gabriella clutched at her heart. "Oh, calm down. I'm just kidding."

"God, you better be. That's gross." Then she grinned and glanced back over at the square groom's cake sitting in front of Taylor. "Not that Troy would care. It's chocolate. He would eat it off the floor if I let him."

Taylor set aside the bowl of ganache she'd just warmed and pulled out a wire rack and set it on top of a deep, sliver baking pan. "Are you sure you don't want me to work on your wedding cake instead of his groom's cake? I know you're way better at decorating than I am, but I feel bad that you're having to make your own cake. Maybe we should have ordered one from another bakery or something."

"Hush your mouth, you traitor," Gabriella said, outraged at the very suggestion of getting a cake from someone else's bakery. "Besides, I don't mind making my own cake. Since my mom took over most of the wedding planning, it's the only thing I have control over at the moment."

Lifting the square chocolate cake with two hands, Taylor set it over the wire rack. "Is that why you decided to up the wedding date?"

"Basically," Gabriella told her, running the metal elbow spatula flat over the top of the white cake to remove any air bubbles in the frosting. "My mother has been driving me insane with all these last-minute details so Troy and I agreed that the quicker we got through with the wedding, the better off we both would be." She shrugged. "Plus, I think he likes the idea of eating lots of cake and then having a bunch of sex this week rather than next week."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Figures. Such a male way of looking at a wedding." She noticed another spot of chocolate on her pinkie and stuck it into her mouth, sucking it off. "So, everything else is done? You're ready for this wedding to happen?"

"I am, but I'm not sure my body is." Gabriella sighed. "I really wanted to lose a few pounds before I walked down the aisle. I feel like ever since we announced the wedding it's been one big barge of events with tons and tons of food. I can't stop eating."

"Aw, honey. Troy loves you. if he was down here right now, he'd have his eyes glued to your backside like he does every time I'm around him. He doesn't care about those few pounds that you're so determined to shed."

"I know, but every bride wants to feel beautiful one her wedding day. With my mother around reminding me about posture, hair care and a good skin regimen, I just want to feel like I'm doing something right."

"Gabriella, you are beautiful. Inside and out. Troy loves you just as you are and you know damn well he would tell you that himself."

Gabriella smiled. "He already has actually. And of course, I believe him. He makes me feel so beautiful all the time. It's just my stupid insecurities bubbling back to the surface on occasion." She gestured to Taylor with her frosting covered spatula. "If only I could be more like you. You're always so confident and carefree."

"It just takes time to get there, if I had a mother who was picking on me about my weight my entire life, I'd be just as neurotic as you are." Taylor grinned to show that she was teasing.

"Gee, thanks." Gabriella said laughing. "By the way, I meant to tell you that I appreciate you covering my days next week on such short notice. We've rented this cute little A-frame bungalow on the beach for a few nights. But if you need anything, I'll have my cell phone with me. Don't hesitate to call I can be back here in two hours flat, if necessary."

Taylor lifted the bowl of warm ganache and began pouring it over Troy's cake, letting the shiny melted chocolate coat the top and drip the sides. "Gabriella, I am not calling you during your honeymoon."

"But if you need to-"

"She won't," Troy said coming through with a garbage bag.

Taylor laughed. "What he said."

Troy placed the garbage bag down next to a few others. "Upstairs should have running hot water now and I installed the kitchen cabinets you wanted."

Taylor did a little jump for joy. The one-bedroom apartment over the bakery was now Taylor's, since Gabriella had moved into Troy's place. Troy had been fixing up the place for a while and was almost done.

"I could kiss you!" Taylor exclaimed.

"Hey, keep your paws off my man." Gabriella teased.

"I do enjoy being your man." Troy came around to where Gabriella was frosting. "What are the odds that your almost done here." He wrapped a hand around her midsection and gently tugged her against his body.

"Not even close," Gabriella smiled. "I just need to get the next three tiers frosted tonight."

"You're killing me woman." Troy lowered his face into the nook of her neck and placed a kiss there.

"Oh hush," Gabriella giggled. "If you're out of work I can find something for you to do."

"What about something to eat?" he said backing away and coming around to Taylor's station and eyeing all the chocolate.

"Oh no you don't." Gabriella said sternly. "If you're hungry I put the left-over pastries in the walk in for tomorrow. You can rummage through those."

Troy made a face, "This is what I get for falling for a baker isn't it?"

"Afraid so," Taylor laughed.

"Wait a minute." Gabriella laughed. "Is all of this your way of keeping yourself in desserts for the rest of your life?"

Troy huffed as he made his way to the walk in, "Even if you never made me another dessert for the rest of our lives, I'd still want to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you."

"Flattery!" Gabriella countered.

Troy came out of the walk in with two pastries in hand. "Let's not forget about all the repair work I've been doing around here. We had a deal you know."

"Honestly," Gabriella laughed. "Do I still have to pay you for the work you do in my bakery?"

Troy smirked, "I think we could work out an arrangement that would be mutually satisfying."

Gabriella blew out a long breath. "Then I guess it's a good thing we're getting married."

"I'm still here. In the room. Listening." Taylor interrupted teasingly.

The three broke out into laughter.

Fin.

 **Happy New Year Everyone.**


End file.
